costume.
“I have to stay in bed,” Say-ressa whispered, “until my fever is gone.” Even as she said it, she knew the fever had worsened. Chillseed might not be enough now. “I must get well, for there are others in worse condition than I am. They need my help.”
“We know,” said Madi. “That’s why we’re here. Their voices are.” She raised the tip of one rabbit ear. “They’ve stopped calling for help.”
“Calling for help?” Say-ressa winced as a groan rose from the darkness at the edge of the cave. She extended her hand toward the sound. The others lay in stiff bandages while bones began their slow reunion.
Luci drew wild pictures in the air. “We didn’t mean to do it, but Wynn said we’d save the king. I didn’t want to—”
“I didn’t want to either,” Madi asserted, tears blurring the painted whiskers around her nose.
Margi glared at them. “It wasn’t wrong. We saved the king.”
Say-ressa sensed something else between their words, like a charge in the air during a lightning storm.
They’re thoughtspeakers. I can feel it. Doubly gifted
. “What,” she asked, “did Wynn tell you to do?”
“Wynn’s like my sisters,” sighed Madi. “Always sneakin’ around. He’s the one who found them.”
“He did what was necessary,” muttered Luci. “He showed us the cave where they were hiding, and we sealed it.”
“How many hours ago?”
The girls looked at one another.
“Last night.” Madi flinched as she said it.
“Get me crutches.” Say-ressa turned to prop herself up on an elbow. “You’ll have to take me there.”
“We’re scared,” whispered Luci.
“I’m not.” Margi folded her furry sleeves before her like a shield. “They deserved it.”
“Say-ressa!” Tabor Jan entered the room in a bluster, crouched, and laid a hand on the healer’s shoulder. “My lady, you’re to remain still.” He turned to the girls and growled in suspicion. “Why aren’t you having supper with the others?”
Say-ressa grasped the captain’s arm. The girls shrank together like baby mice in a burrow.
To any other eyes it was an ordinary patch of wall, textured by heat and storm, cooling in the dusk.
But to Tabor Jan, who had patrolled the ledges of Barnashum’s cliffs, it was a terrible confirmation. A cave’s mouth had vanished.
He unsheathed his sword and stepped back but not too far back. The precipice was near, and the dizzying space below made his stomach turn. He hated heights.
“Open the cave,” he said to the triplets.
Placing hands one beside the other across the center of the stone face, the girls set the stone to rippling, then running.
A breeze gusted out through the widening crevasse, cold and foul. Tabor Jan felt his muscles pull taut as the bowstrings of the defenders on either side.
No one emerged.
Tabor Jan stepped forward.
A voice, then—like evening dove song.
Tabor Jan peered into the dark, then strode through. His archers came behind him.
Blinking into the wedge of dusklight as if it were bright sun, a grey-haired soldier lay against the cave’s far wall, heaving for breath in a pool of blood gone cold. His right arm was a bloodied stump, ending where the elbow should be. He smacked his lips dryly together. And then that voice again. “Coming through the floor,” he cooed. “It’s got me. It won’t let go.”
“Dokkens, where are the others?” Tabor Jan’s feet were sticky, for bloody lines crisscrossed the floor like ribbons from an opened package. “My arm first. Then the rest of them.”
Black lines led to a corner of the cave and a break, the source of the chill. That burrow was far too small to have provided an escape. But the floor before it was littered with spots of gore and fragments of bone. Tabor Jan sank to his knees.
“The rest of them,” sighed the dying man. “Left me alone. For hours and hours.”
Hearing a faint cry, Tabor Jan turned in time to see the triplets flee from the entrance. He grabbed an
“I have to stay in bed,” Say-ressa whispered, “until my fever is gone.” Even as she said it, she knew the fever had worsened. Chillseed might not be enough now. “I must get well, for there are others in worse condition than I am. They need my help.”
“We know,” said Madi. “That’s why we’re here. Their voices are.” She raised the tip of one rabbit ear. “They’ve stopped calling for help.”
“Calling for help?” Say-ressa winced as a groan rose from the darkness at the edge of the cave. She extended her hand toward the sound. The others lay in stiff bandages while bones began their slow reunion.
Luci drew wild pictures in the air. “We didn’t mean to do it, but Wynn said we’d save the king. I didn’t want to—”
“I didn’t want to either,” Madi asserted, tears blurring the painted whiskers around her nose.
Margi glared at them. “It wasn’t wrong. We saved the king.”
Say-ressa sensed something else between their words, like a charge in the air during a lightning storm.
They’re thoughtspeakers. I can feel it. Doubly gifted
. “What,” she asked, “did Wynn tell you to do?”
“Wynn’s like my sisters,” sighed Madi. “Always sneakin’ around. He’s the one who found them.”
“He did what was necessary,” muttered Luci. “He showed us the cave where they were hiding, and we sealed it.”
“How many hours ago?”
The girls looked at one another.
“Last night.” Madi flinched as she said it.
“Get me crutches.” Say-ressa turned to prop herself up on an elbow. “You’ll have to take me there.”
“We’re scared,” whispered Luci.
“I’m not.” Margi folded her furry sleeves before her like a shield. “They deserved it.”
“Say-ressa!” Tabor Jan entered the room in a bluster, crouched, and laid a hand on the healer’s shoulder. “My lady, you’re to remain still.” He turned to the girls and growled in suspicion. “Why aren’t you having supper with the others?”
Say-ressa grasped the captain’s arm. The girls shrank together like baby mice in a burrow.
To any other eyes it was an ordinary patch of wall, textured by heat and storm, cooling in the dusk.
But to Tabor Jan, who had patrolled the ledges of Barnashum’s cliffs, it was a terrible confirmation. A cave’s mouth had vanished.
He unsheathed his sword and stepped back but not too far back. The precipice was near, and the dizzying space below made his stomach turn. He hated heights.
“Open the cave,” he said to the triplets.
Placing hands one beside the other across the center of the stone face, the girls set the stone to rippling, then running.
A breeze gusted out through the widening crevasse, cold and foul. Tabor Jan felt his muscles pull taut as the bowstrings of the defenders on either side.
No one emerged.
Tabor Jan stepped forward.
A voice, then—like evening dove song.
Tabor Jan peered into the dark, then strode through. His archers came behind him.
Blinking into the wedge of dusklight as if it were bright sun, a grey-haired soldier lay against the cave’s far wall, heaving for breath in a pool of blood gone cold. His right arm was a bloodied stump, ending where the elbow should be. He smacked his lips dryly together. And then that voice again. “Coming through the floor,” he cooed. “It’s got me. It won’t let go.”
“Dokkens, where are the others?” Tabor Jan’s feet were sticky, for bloody lines crisscrossed the floor like ribbons from an opened package. “My arm first. Then the rest of them.”
Black lines led to a corner of the cave and a break, the source of the chill. That burrow was far too small to have provided an escape. But the floor before it was littered with spots of gore and fragments of bone. Tabor Jan sank to his knees.
“The rest of them,” sighed the dying man. “Left me alone. For hours and hours.”
Hearing a faint cry, Tabor Jan turned in time to see the triplets flee from the entrance. He grabbed an
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