Author's Note: Well. Um. I hope you enjoy reading this more than I did writing it. Thanks, as usual, to Candice - and the Dove members who helped me with a name.
Oh, I should also add: thanks to all my lovely reviewers, for their flattery and encouragement! Especially to Jolinar-nrw, whose kind words allowed me that pang of guilt (over neglecting the fic) that I thought would wring an update out of me… course, that was in December. I got the bulk of this written - painfully - before Winter Break was over, but logistics and transitions dragged on through the quarter, much to my own disappointment.
Chapter 14
Daine crouched by the hearth, staring tersely into the flames as though she could will them into revealing what she wanted to see. Her fingers drummed on the polished wooden boards of her parents' floor. The current predicament had flooded her with anxious energy, and she was far from releasing it all.
"You've been watching us all along?" she asked, glancing sidelong at her mother.
Sarra nodded. "Fair often. Your father and I used to mean to only look in every now and then, when it looked like you were tangling with trouble, but such times got more and more often, lately." She extended a hand toward the flames, scattering a puff of white sparks. The fire flared, then sank almost to its embers.
"Ma…." Daine rolled her eyes discreetly. "You needn't always be nosing into my affairs. I can more than take care of myself." Would she never escape the parental net?
"You can never know what might come up, Daine. Especially in your line of work." The Green Lady looked sharply at her daughter. "We worry about you, that's all. And with good reason."
Daine bit her tongue firmly. This discussion was feeling all too familiar.
A picture crept into the flames; Daine leaned forward, squinting. It was the cave where she'd met and fought Savagni, the torches burning lower now. The People she'd seen were there, sitting huddled and perfectly still, as though hypnotized - which was likely. And sure enough - her stomach wrenched - there was the wildmage himself, human and dressed again, sitting against the wall of the cave, also unmoving.
Daine frowned. "Could you show him closer?" she murmured, eyes riveted on the fire. After a moment, the flames contracted again, then grew this time to reveal a new image. Up close, Daine could see his features twisted in concentration, twitching occasionally as though in discomfort or frustration. Sweat trailed along his tanned brow.
"He must be talking with the People, or immortals," Daine reasoned. "But why would he be upset? He usually orders them, from what I've heard, and few things would stand against his command…." She rubbed her chin in thought. "If I had to wager, I'd say he was struggling with them, that they were fighting, even. Could be Windracer pulled together some of the others who weren't happy with Savagni - which would be a fair amount - especially after seeing what he did down in that cave. After all, animals can be stubborn enough, when they set their will to it." Some were more naturally so than others; she had never made peace with such species as rats or camels.
Sarra looked worried. "Do they have a chance?"
"I don't know." Daine took a deep breath. "There isn't much time. Could you show me Ravenpeak itself?"
Sarra nodded; the fire bunched down once again, then grew slowly. This time it showed Ravenpeak's proud walls and turrets braced against the open azure sky, but frantic with activity. Hurroks, their sides and muzzles stained with gore, swooped from every angle as Ravenpeak's archers tried to fire in all directions at once. Again, the hurroks tended to fall upon the fighters in groups, and twisted in surprisingly nimble maneuvers, making hard targets. Ground and air were one great battlefield, laced with the screams of both battle-rage and agony and the whip of arrows.
"Goddess." Daine sat back and closed her eyes briefly as her spirits declined further. Even with Savagni occupied with the People, she had no guarantee the hurroks couldn't go about their deadly business independently. Ravenpeak's forces were bruised from the last attack, and now, by all appearances, the flock had grown. They hadn't known of this new siege, and reinforcements would take at least a day to arrive - why hadn't they called on Fief Riak from the first? She clenched her fists, barely feeling her mother's hand on her shoulder.
"Sarra?"
Both women turned; Daine's father stood in the doorway, the badger at his feet. Weiryn nodded to her. "Daine. The Great Ones will see us. Are you ready?"
"More than," she said grimly, getting to her feet. Resentfully, she noted the worried glance her parents exchanged. "Let's go, please. Now."
Weiryn nodded; the room around them dissolved in a cloud of white fire.
~~~~~
When her vision cleared, Daine found herself standing at the foot of a towering and elaborately carved fountain, apparently completely of ivory. Sparkling water leaped from its many tiers to swirl in the large basin below. Awed, she turned to take in the rest of her surroundings. The polished marble tiles that she stood on stretched as far as the eye could see; lush grapevines twined around tall marble pillars. The sky overhead was a silky, delicate twilight blue, and stars had just begun to poke out of its depths. There was no sign of either a moon or a sun.
Some thirty yards ahead of her, two commanding figures sat side by side on golden and silver thrones. A few yards to either side, about twenty more people were seated in lines that curved slightly in a shallow crescent. Daine's heart thudded against her ribs. These were the Great Gods, the highest beings that ruled over mortals.
"Go ahead, dear." Daine heard her mother's voice from behind her and turned; Weiryn and Sarra stood a few paces back. Sarra smiled encouragingly. "Don't be afraid. Go up to the Great Ones. We'll be right here."
It was good to know her parents were at her back, even if it fell to Daine herself to present her case to the gods. The Wildmage squared her shoulders and strode towards the assembly ahead of her, trying to appear confident yet modest. She could feel their eyes on her as she drew nearer; her palms were sweaty.
At a scant ten paces from the central thrones, she dropped to one knee on the smooth marble, head bowed and arms at her sides. Vaguely, she wished she taken a brush to her hair before coming here. She also wondered where Cianto was. Did he keep his own hours, even when summoned by the Great Gods?
"Rise, Godborn," proclaimed a woman's voice, smooth and commanding. Daine stood, keeping her head up - if she ever needed to look strong, it was now. The Great Mother Goddess had spoken, and now Daine met her gaze as the gods watched her. The Goddess, on a silver throne, was dressed in a simple floor-length tunic, pure white and flowing. Her sable hair was crowned with silver circlet; her emerald eyes regarded Daine serenely. On her right sat Mithros, resplendent in his golden armor, spear in hand.
"Welcome, daughter of Weiryn," Mithros declared in his deep voice. "We meet again." His tone was even, if not warm. "We understand you have a grievance to voice."
The Goddess raised a slender hand. "Speak to us of this trouble, my daughter." She inclined her head to one side.
"Thank you, my lady," Daine replied, bowing her head shortly. She addressed the assembly. "The grievance I bring concerns another godborn, a wildmage of powers much like mine. All his life he has treated the People as slaves and playthings, feeding off of them to further his own ambitions and not troubling himself to their aid when he might heal or protect them. He has planned, toward his own interests, to eliminate any others of comparable magic, that he himself might stand alone in imperium as Wildmage of the realm." She lowered her gaze. "And so it is that I have perished at his hand. I came to Ravenpeak to investigate the strange abilities of hurroks plaguing the fief. Tracing the cause to Savagni, I encountered him today in a cave some miles out of Ravenpeak, in the presence of an assemblage of People - hunters - whom he had poisoned with his magic, binding them to his will. He set them upon me; while I might have repelled them magically, such resistance dealt them harm. When I did, to defend myself -" she bit her lip as anger rose again - "he scorned my conduct as no less base than his, as I had accused." Daine lifted her head, returning the gods' stares. "And so - in keeping of my duties as Wildmage and friend of the People, I have fallen by the hand of another - one who treads responsibility and honor underfoot in his own selfish pursuits.
"I invoke you to right this wrong, and to intercede in Lucio Savagni's actions. Too many years he has exploited his magic, and been a plague upon the People as well as the humans he attacks. He is Godborn, and surely he must answer to the gods' justice." She bowed her head in deference. "Pray grace the Mortal Realms with your judgment."
Finished, Daine waited as they considered her, praying (ironic, she thought) that her speech had come over well. She met their appraising gaze, painstakingly composing herself, but her hands trembled.
At last, the Goddess's rosy lips curved into a faint smile. "You have changed, my daughter, since last you stood before us."
Daine couldn't help but smile at the thought. At sixteen, she had been in this very courtyard, under the gods' eyes, first to argue for the Stormwing's right to their behavior and then to choose a world in which to live. Then, she had been battle-worn and -mussed, frightened, overwhelmed, exhausted. Then, she had addressed the Great Ones with her typical bluntness, often so ill-used in the presence of the mortal highborn. But even then, she seemed to have made some impression; hope swelled at the thought of a better presentation now.
A ragged old woman on the Mithros's right favored Daine with her lopsided, scant-toothed grin. "Now, I've an ear for this one's story," she declared, and winked at Daine. Turning to the other gods, her expression sobered. "She's right," the Graveyard Hag told them. "Cianto's boy's a nasty one. He needs discipline, sure enough."
"Bringing us to our second supplicant," Mithros pronounced. His gaze shifted to somewhere beyond Daine, and he nodded. "Come forward, brother."
Daine spun: behind and on her right stood a tall and impossibly muscled man, wearing a simple leather tunic and sandals. A finely made and polished longbow rested in one hand, and a quiver of arrows hung across his back. His hands and forearms were wrapped with leather, marking an experienced archer. His appearance was typical of Tyra - the dark coloring, the deep features - but for one aspect: his eyes were not the dark wells fitting of his ethnicity, but sharp and golden. Together with a strong, beak-like nose, he gave the impression of a giant bird of prey.
Now he strode forward with muscular ease, coming to a level with Daine. Ignoring her, he bowed deeply to the gods, touching one fist to his brow in a salute. "My lord Mithros. My lady Goddess." His voice was deep and powerful.
"Greetings, Cianto," the Sun Lord replied. "Do you understand why you have been summoned today?"
"I understand the reason concerns this -" he turned towards Daine, surveying her haughtily - "mortal maiden."
"Half mortal, mind you." Sarra's voice came from behind Daine; she turned to look sharply at her mother, wishing she would stay out of it.
Cianto raised an eyebrow in a haughty manner not unlike his son's before turning back to the Great Gods. Daine glared at him, anger pulsing inside her.
"The matter touches you closely, brother," the Goddess continued. A sharp note seemed to have entered her voice. "It concerns your son."
"I heard Veralidaine's complaint, my lady."
"And you understand her proposal?"
"Indeed." The Tyran god turned slowly back to Daine, apparently sizing her up. "So. She accuses my son of misusing his powers, ill-treating the People - and now, after one-on-one combat with him, asks you to return her to life and punish my son instead."
--She has reason, Cianto.-- The voice startled Daine; she'd forgotten what it was like to hear Gainel's mind-speech. --The "combat" of which you speak was hardly level, as your son turned the People against her. Does it not call upon the gods to administer justice in the Mortals Realms, in cases such as this?--
The Dream King's ghostly eyes turned briefly to Daine; she smiled gratefully. Never had she been as glad for his friendship as she was now.
"So it has long been," replied Cianto. "But also, the gods have long resolved not to meddle in the affairs of mortals to the point of despotism. Humans conduct their own affairs amongst themselves."
A hush followed in the great court.
"Where a god is directly concerned, he may intervene," Cianto continued. "If a mortal takes a vow binding himself to a god, or if a mortal event falls clearly within a god's area of influence, the god may take a hand in matters. The case at hand, however, comes under neither instance."
"I must object." The breezy, musical voice came from a white-eyed and blue-robed woman, Shakith. "A god's own half-mortal children must surely come under his area of influence."
"Ah." Cianto smiled triumphantly. "You repeat my words, sister, when six years ago my son was hunted by his own kind, fleeing his home. He suffered; I might have helped him. But, then, this very assembly forbade me."
"Your son, Cianto, committed a crime against mortals." Mithros was speaking again. "He was subject to mortal justice."
"And so has he done now, if you must call his actions a 'crime' - hardly the case, if I may say so. His dispute was with Veralidaine and with her only. The matter was and should have been settled between them."
"It is not with whom your son's quarrel was that is being questioned." Shakith's voice had sharpened. "Surely you understand it is his methods." She raised a graceful, silver-nailed hand to rest her chin on.
Daine vaguely sensed her adversary stiffening. "Pray go on."
--It seems Veralidaine has previously enlightened us. Attention swung back to Gainel. Your son, Cianto, is a different kind of wildmage than she.--
"Granted."
--In the sense that she, brother, acts solely and consistently in the interests of the People, even at expense of her own. He, however, directs their efforts and resources, often against their will, toward his own interests. Veralidaine is a friend of the People, while your son considers himself to be their lord and takes liberties as such. It seems Weiryn's daughter is not the first or only to harbor such a complaint.--
Around the circle, other gods bowed their heads slightly in assent.
"Very well." Cianto's voice was taut with anger. "If you must have your views on my son's behavior, then you must. There is ample injustice in the Mortal Realms - much of it greater than this - and not all, certainly, calls for intervention from the gods."
"And so we return to your earlier words," the Goddess remarked. "Where a god is directly concerned -" she paused pointedly - "he may intervene. And where he is called, he must."
"My lady, I am a god of the hunters that rove the Tyran mountains. When they pray for a well-aimed shot or plentiful game, it is my duty to answer those earnest and worthy. My son's actions are of his own prerogative - and, again, it is not the gods' place to meddle in the private affairs of mortals."
--The eternal debate,-- Gainel said impatiently. --Shall the offspring of a god and a mortal be held in our eyes as mortal, or as our own?--
"Judge for yourselves," Cianto replied. "Veralidaine has lived all her life as a mortal, among mortals. Only once has she even been present in the Divine Realms, eight years ago - and then, if I recall, she chose to limit herself to her mortal life."
The hooded Black God leaned forward in his seat. "And if Veralidaine were mortal, she would not be here."
"I'm fully aware, my lord. If I may be so bold to ask…?" Cianto delicately left the inquiry hanging.
"My point, Cianto, is that perhaps we may not treat Veralidaine fully as a mortal. I have known death since the beginning of time, and better than any of you. Countless mortal deaths have passed under my hand." The Black God paused. "And this is not one of them. Weiryn's daughter left the Mortal Realms - and came to us. Why? She is one of ours. So perhaps, Cianto, it is not our place to interfere with mortals' actions - but such is not the situation at hand."
"Very well, then," the Tyran god said smoothly. "I repeat myself: when my son was hunted by mortals, I was prohibited from taking a hand in his aid - where my brother Weiryn was allowed free passage to his mortal family."
"Not in person," Weiryn interrupted. "I was allowed to speak with Sarra, but sent my friend the badger to watch over my daughter."
Daine turned to look sharply at her father. "And I can't say I saw you around much, when I was little. It might've helped - do you know what Ma and I went through in Snowsdale?"
"Daine," her mother said warningly.
Sarra and Weiryn exchanged glances. "Sharper than the serpent's tooth," he muttered.
"Especially with ours," Sarra added with a rueful half-smile.
"To return to the matter at hand -" Cianto put in airily.
Weiryn straightened slightly. "Indeed. The matter is that in sending the badger to the Mortal Realms, we in no way interfered with mortal happenings."
"Even less," Daine remarked, "because it seems he missed the whole part with me running from the hunters - isn't that right?"
"Yes," Weiryn admitted, with a look meant to silence Daine. "And Cianto's proposed actions, those years ago, would certainly have thwarted those mortals - whom his son had deliberatly wronged."
"Brother - if I dare say it, you seem to put gods' actions in an altogether impartial light. Can any one of our number -" Cianto addressed the assembly at large - "hold truthfully that our only end is justice for all? I must see the Graveyard Hag's intervention in her mortal empire as a response to both the man's relations with his people, and with us."
The Hag brandished her knobby stick to make a point. "Right you are - and Ozorne needed it, no question about that. He was to answer to me, and he went off-course. Badly."
Cianto extended a hand in her direction. "Exactly - as gods, we are certain to have certain bonds with mortals which may call for intervention on their part. Such was my reasoning, when I first appealed to help my son."
Daine frowned. Hadn't Cianto switched over from his first arguments? How had he gotten there? Her head was beginning to ache with the debate.
The Goddess was speaking again. "And our reasoning, as we explained, judged against interference in the mortal affairs with which your son was concerned."
Cianto nodded politely. "Thank you, my lady - it seems you fully understand my view on the current matter."
Daine grimaced, anger churning her stomach.
"The battle that passed not long ago," continued the hunt god, "was between two wildmages in the Mortal Realms, living as mortals, and thus with no share in our circle beyond that as mortals. They may be born of gods, it is true, but if we may all set aside our biases -" he gave an ironic nod to Weiryn and Sarra - "how is this battle different from one between any two mortal mages?"
--And we return once again to the great question.-- Gainel's mind-voice sounded annoyed. --What circumstances exactly justify a god's intervention? The finer points of such judgments lie along one's own bent, and can be - difficult to reconcile among differently-minded gods, it seems.--
We're getting nowhere, Daine thought furiously. No one had done anything yet, and Savagni was still running rampant down in the mortal realms. Was this why she had appealed to the Great Gods? She spoke up again. "Gainel's right. You can argue this all day, and it's still a big question on whether Savagni and I should be under mortal judgment or the gods', and whether gods can step into mortal business and whatever matters you please to bring up. Let me try to give you a fresh view of it." She knew her tone was sharper than was wise, but there was no point to beating around the bush. "Here's what it comes down to - Savagni and me as wildmages. He wanted me dead so there'd be no danger to his own power in the Mortal Realms. Well, he's gotten his wish - and you know what this means? He's the only major wildmage left down there. There's no one to protect the People from his filthy ways, or stop him from doing just as he wants, now. He'll just keep feeding off the People, getting stronger and stronger - believe me, Savagni's crazy, and he'll stop at nothing - and who knows what it will come to? What could a wildmage with bottomless power behind him do if he puts his mind to it? Look - when I was last here, you had me choose between Mortal and Divine Realms, to stop too much trouble. Dare I say it, it hasn't worked." She let the thought hang in the air for a moment.
"Plenty of dreadful things can happen down there if you turn away from it," Daine continued quietly. "And mortal though things may be, at least in the beginning, they'll be trouble even for you, if you let them fester. The man down there is a deep, open wound who'll bleed the People dry, and just keep killing - think how much more he could do, with all the People harnessed - if you let him. I know you don't want that to happen."
She looked around at them impatiently, waiting for a response. How could the gods take so long? The problem was blindingly simple, and all this time they'd been stuck on Cianto's crafty rhetoric.
The gods seemed affected; they were looking around at one another and at Daine with new regard. A woman with wild, flowing hair and a pale turquoise gown that seemed to shimmer like shifting water - the Sea Goddess - nodded slowly to her with a small smile.
Cianto also seemed to sense the change in the air. "If I may object," he snapped. "This woman asks you to stifle a mortal of free will, to undo his actions in her personal favor. When did the Great Ones take it upon themselves to alter the lives of individual mortals as they saw fit?"
"We have discussed the matter, Cianto," the Goddess said calmly. "You had your say, as you were entitled." She addressed Daine again. "What action do you suggest be taken, Godborn?"
Daine bit her lip. "You can hardly kill the man," she said quietly. "Take away his magic. Without his power, humans will take care of the rest and punish him for the crimes he committed against mortal law." She glanced sideways at Cianto.
"Abolish his powers?" the hunt god cried. "Not in a thousand years have the gods taken such drastic action so lightly!"
The Goddess ignored him. "If there are no further objections," she announced, "Veralidaine's proposed retribution will be carried out." The gods seated around her nodded their approval.
"This is absurd," Cianto snarled. "Far be it from the Great Ones, so I thought, to act so imprudently as the most thoughtless, blundering mortal."
"Cianto." It was Mithros who spoke, and his powerful voice reverberated around the vast courtyard. Many of the Great Gods had stiffened; the air had tensed like cloth pulled taut. "You are allotted your say in the gods' assembly, and I believe we heard it more than once. However, it is not your place to voice offenses against your betters for the sake of satisfying your personal grievances. We have come to a consensus, and it does not fall to you to challenge that decision - or to hurl wanton insults."
Another moment passed; Daine saw Cianto's biceps flex as he clenched his fists. Then he knelt again, head bowed in submission.
"Then it is decided," the Goddess said solemnly. She paused, but no one spoke in protest. She turned back to the Tyran god and held out one white hand, palm up. "Come, brother."
Cianto rose, eyes burning, but with a new slump to his shoulders that spoke of defeat. He walked slowly to the center of the court and addressed the assembly at large. "I, Cianto of the hunt, acknowledge the judgment passed on my son by the Great Gods this day - that he should be stripped of the powers endowed by Godbirth." He spoke heavily, but his words had a ring of finality to them. The court remained silent for a long moment as Cianto's words seeped into the air.
Daine exhaled heavily, barely able to comprehend all that had just happened. She shook her head to clear it, then looked around at her parents for help.
"And what of Daine?" Sarra demanded, addressing the Great Gods.
"She was wronged by Cianto's son," added Weiryn. "It is only fitting that the wrong be undone."
Daine's stomach twisted. Please… I have to go back. If she were trapped here, it had all been for nothing.
Mithros seemed to consider, then nodded gravely. "Your daughter will be returned to the Mortal Realms."
Daine turned to face her parents, eyes stinging. "I suppose this is goodbye for now," she said, smiling bravely. "Hopefully we'll be seeing each other again soon, and under happier circumstances."
"We will, dear." Sarra hugged her daughter. She pulled back to look at Daine, smiling. "Look at you, challenging the Great Ones and putting that man to justice. I'm so proud of you." She smoothed back Daine's hair. "You take care of yourself, understand? I won't hear of these foolish risks you've a habit of taking."
"Of course, Ma," Daine said automatically. She turned to embrace her father as well. "Thank you for backing me up."
"It is the least we could do," Weiryn replied. "Listen to your mother, Daine. You should be more careful, in the midst of the mortal wars." He and Sarra exchanged a glance.
"We should talk sometime," the Green Lady added decidedly.
"All right," Daine replied shortly, urgent to return to Ravenpeak. She had so much to do yet….
She turned to find the Mother Goddess looking at her expectantly. "Are you prepared to return, Godborn?"
Daine nodded.
"Then come." The Goddess beckoned.
With a last smile over her shoulder to her parents, Daine crossed the courtyard toward the Goddess's throne. The distance between them seemed to stretch as she neared, and the gods loomed perceptibly taller. Stopping before the Goddess, Daine realized that, standing, she barely came to the immortal's shoulder. She smelled jasmine and running water, and felt a strangle tingle to the air. The Mother leaned forward, a smile touching her lips, and seemed to radiate a soft yet intense light that made Daine blink.
"Well done, Godborn," the Goddess whispered, and extended a hand to rest on Daine's brow. Daine jumped; the touch was like a cloud of stars spilling into her. She closed her eyes, and fell away from the courtyard.
~~~~~
Tumbling through space touched by the light of distant stars, she felt a brazen, amber presence at her side - not surrounding her, but neither could she escape it. And, somehow, she sensed Savagni's hard, steely power present as well - was it possible?
A voice boomed around and through her, repeating Cianto's earlier declaration: I, Cianto of the hunt, acknowledge the judgment passed on my son by the Great Gods this day - that he should be stripped of the powers endowed by Godbirth. Daine felt a grand, sweeping power swell as the words sounded - was that a distant eagle's cry? - then fade.
The steely force contracted in on itself, tightening further and further until it was only a point against the endless dark - then it winked out completely.
And somewhere, even more distant, she heard a voice wailing brokenly: Noooooooooo…
The scream intensified as she fell, seeming to twist inside her. Still the wail crescendoed, building higher and higher to an agonized screech -
~~~~~
Daine jerked up with a gasp, gulping in the dank, cool air of the cavern. She was sitting on the stone floor, now fully dressed - the gods had apparently thought to restore her to her clothes - and the softly lit cavern was silent. She felt battered and dizzy, and leaned her weight on her hands as she looked around the cave. The People Savagni had brought earlier were seated around the room, watching her.
Are you all right? a wildcat - Tanil - inquired, coming over to nuzzle her shoulder. You weren't breathing, just before. What happened?
Daine tried to smile and rubbed Bounder behind the ears, still breathing hard. "It's fair complicated," she murmured. "I'm all right now, I think."
She pushed herself upright on wobbly legs and looked around. It was a few moments before recognized Savagni, lying crumpled at the opposite side of the cavern. Daine jumped, looking around wildly at the People around her. "What - what happened to him?" She quickly touched their minds; no trace of that menacing power remained. Next, her heart skipped a beat as she realized that felt no magic at all, outside the People's and her own. It was like diving sweaty and filth-encrusted into a rushing stream, and emerging cleansed from top to toe.
I don't know, said a wolf, Moonsong. All of a sudden he looked angry or pained, and then he collapsed. There was a great noise, too - well, not exactly a noise, but like it.
"Horse Lords." Daine moved closer, steps tentative. At one point dizziness gripped her, and she leaned on Tanil for support. Kneeling at Savagni's side, she checked his pulse. It was steady, but she doubted he'd come around anytime soon. She still couldn't feel any other magic, no matter how she groped - the steely, tainted power was gone from both the man's person and the animals he'd held captive. Given her experiences with the hurroks over the past few days, Daine hesitated to trust this perception, but logic told her the gods had made good on their resolution. Lucio Savagni was no longer a wildmage.
She turned back to the People in the cave. "Can you feel him?"
They all responded in the negative.
Daine sat on the stone floor and took several deep breaths. In all her years - eleven conscious of her magic - she had never witnessed a person being fully stripped of their magic. It was unsettling to first be overwhelmed by another wildmage's power, and later that day sense nothing in them - like a hurricane ceasing to blow in an instant. She glanced over at Savagni. Unconscious, he looked mild - even impotent - despite a line of pain in his brow remaining from the shock he had doubtless received. Daine wondered what it was like to be stripped of one's wild magic, particularly when one had lived a lifelong dream of pursuing it. She shuddered. What could it be like to be deprived of an ever-present internal force?
She pulled herself to her feet again, once more fighting exhaustion. It had been a trying day. The understatement of my life, she added mentally. What time was it? There was no way to tell underground. She couldn't sit around pondering the struggle that had just taken place - she had to get back to Ravenpeak and bring Savagni in. But how? She didn't know whether the task would be more difficult with the man conscious or unconscious. Now that she was the sole wildmage between them, the People present could easily help keep him in line, but would she have to wait until he came around? She didn't like the idea. For the moment, she asked several of the wolves not to let Savagni leave the cave if he awoke, then stumbled to the chamber's entrance and set herself to the task of getting out. Even with cat eyes in the dark and Tanil at her side to lean on, it wasn't easy; she often tripped on the rocky floor. But after what seemed like an hour, fingers of light touched the tunnel's walls and a silky breeze drifted in.
Daine staggered out of the tunnel into the last rays of sunlight slanting across the plain. Cloud stood nearby, grazing calmly; as Daine appeared, she raised her head and trotted to her mistress's side. Daine frowned, then looked up; the eerie calls that took her a moment to recognize turned out to be those of a vast flock of ravens circling overhead, their voices stretching out across the plain. Daine blinked at the spectacle, but was somehow too exhausted to be awed - or to call out to the ravens. The next thing she noticed was a dark blot on the plain to the south. Sharpening her eyes to those of a raptor, she saw that it was a company of men in Ravenpeak's pale green and black livery riding her way - probably drawn by the great cloud of birds overhead.
"Goddess bless," she whispered, and slid down the stone face to sit on the ground.
They've been at it for hours, Cloud informed her. What happened in there? There was this… sound not long ago, and the ravens put up a racket. And you don't look so good. The mare leaned down to sniff Tanil - years of experience with Daine's friends had made Cloud fearless around many predators - then turned to give Daine a similar treatment.
Daine leaned her head back against the cliff, feeling the warm whuff of Cloud's breath and the tickle of her whiskers. "Long story," she mumbled. "I'll explain it all later." They all settled into silence as they waited for the troops to arrive. The sunlight gradually slipped away, leaving the plain shadowy and cool under a pale, silken blue sky. She had never noticed the smell of - verbenas? - on the breeze, Daine realized. Some things were just like that.
