The Black Shriving (Chronicles of the Black Gate Book 2) by Phil Tucker Page B
Authors: Phil Tucker
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at Ashurina as if for confirmation. "I know it to be when the forces that surround the Black Gate overflow and come pouring down to this Hold. Any who reside here are slain. Come dawn, the evil returns to the heights. As to the why? No one knows for sure. I believe it is an ancient grudge against the Kyferins who once garrisoned these walls and routinely cleansed the Gate so as to mine the Gate Stone."
Iskra nodded. "All right. And this Black Gate that Audsley discovered in the mountains. Where might it be located? What might defend it? What can we do to shut it down so that we can access the Gate Stone in the ground?"
Mæva leaned back. "I'm flattered that you assume I possess such information."
Iskra expected to hear Tiron's irritated snarl, and felt instead a pang of loss over not having him with her. Instead it was Ser Wyland who leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees.
"It's alright to admit your ignorance," he said gently. "If you don't know -"
"I do know," Mæva snapped. "I am as steeped in these mysteries as you are in..." She paused, her gaze flicking up and down his body. "Your distinctive odor. No, what I sought to impress upon you all is that the answers I do have are to be taken as educated guesses, not fact. Am I clear?"
Kethe shoveled another spoonful of food into her mouth and grunted. "Sounds like you're hedging to me."
Mæva rolled her eyes and lifted Ashurina to eye level. "Don't despair of them, my sweet," she said. "It's like trying to dress a kragh in fine silks."
Lady Kyferin tapped her fingers on her knee. "Mæva?"
"Very well." Mæva lowered Ashurina to her lap. "These mountains are perilously high, and there are a number of false peaks between where we sit and where I believe the Black Gate to be. I've spent some time studying the maps that Audsley discovered below, and I believe I now know the general area in which the Gate may lie."
"May?" Ser Wyland raised an eyebrow.
"May. A steep valley hidden in a cleft high up in the Skarpheðinn range." She paused and licked her lower lip. "Understand: on rare occasion a demon might descend from the heights to plague our land, much like the one you slew a few days ago. But up in the Skarpheðinn Range, their presence will be commonplace. I can't even guess what else might infest the land that close to the Gate. Stone trolls, most certainly. Who knows what other creatures, what monstrosities?"
Asho leaned forward. "You were able to shield our presence from the demon. Could you do so again?"
"Yes," said Mæva. "That would be your only hope of survival."
"Then it seems you must accompany our force to this range," said Iskra.
"Yes," said Mæva quietly. "I had intended to."
"Thank you," said Iskra. "How do you suggest we undertake this mission?"
Ser Wyland sat straight. "We can -"
"You're not going," said Mæva.
"I - pardon? What do you mean?"
"You're not going." Mæva smiled sweetly at him.
Ser Wyland frowned. "Of course I'm going. Why wouldn't I?"
"Because," said Mæva, leaning back on one arm, "you would be a terrible liability. You have not a thimbleful of mystic power to you. You won't be able to harm our foes, won't be able to fight on their level, and will distract and slow the rest of us who would have to take care of you."
Ser Wyland's face darkened and he rose to his feet, but it was clear he didn't know how to respond.
Iskra raised a hand, forestalling him. "Then, who should accompany you?"
Mæva turned to regard Asho and Kethe. "Those two. The three of us shall move quickly, under the cover of my protective magic."
Asho blanched. "Just the three of us? Going up to the Skarpheðinn range? Alone?"
Mæva smiled and nodded. "Precisely."
Kethe set her bowl aside firmly. "An intelligent choice. After all, we're going to die soon anyway. When do we leave?"
"Kethe!" Iskra's outrage was scalding. "How dare you speak so flippantly about such matters!"
"You think me flippant?" Kethe's gaze was steady and without remorse.
Iskra nodded. "All right. And this Black Gate that Audsley discovered in the mountains. Where might it be located? What might defend it? What can we do to shut it down so that we can access the Gate Stone in the ground?"
Mæva leaned back. "I'm flattered that you assume I possess such information."
Iskra expected to hear Tiron's irritated snarl, and felt instead a pang of loss over not having him with her. Instead it was Ser Wyland who leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees.
"It's alright to admit your ignorance," he said gently. "If you don't know -"
"I do know," Mæva snapped. "I am as steeped in these mysteries as you are in..." She paused, her gaze flicking up and down his body. "Your distinctive odor. No, what I sought to impress upon you all is that the answers I do have are to be taken as educated guesses, not fact. Am I clear?"
Kethe shoveled another spoonful of food into her mouth and grunted. "Sounds like you're hedging to me."
Mæva rolled her eyes and lifted Ashurina to eye level. "Don't despair of them, my sweet," she said. "It's like trying to dress a kragh in fine silks."
Lady Kyferin tapped her fingers on her knee. "Mæva?"
"Very well." Mæva lowered Ashurina to her lap. "These mountains are perilously high, and there are a number of false peaks between where we sit and where I believe the Black Gate to be. I've spent some time studying the maps that Audsley discovered below, and I believe I now know the general area in which the Gate may lie."
"May?" Ser Wyland raised an eyebrow.
"May. A steep valley hidden in a cleft high up in the Skarpheðinn range." She paused and licked her lower lip. "Understand: on rare occasion a demon might descend from the heights to plague our land, much like the one you slew a few days ago. But up in the Skarpheðinn Range, their presence will be commonplace. I can't even guess what else might infest the land that close to the Gate. Stone trolls, most certainly. Who knows what other creatures, what monstrosities?"
Asho leaned forward. "You were able to shield our presence from the demon. Could you do so again?"
"Yes," said Mæva. "That would be your only hope of survival."
"Then it seems you must accompany our force to this range," said Iskra.
"Yes," said Mæva quietly. "I had intended to."
"Thank you," said Iskra. "How do you suggest we undertake this mission?"
Ser Wyland sat straight. "We can -"
"You're not going," said Mæva.
"I - pardon? What do you mean?"
"You're not going." Mæva smiled sweetly at him.
Ser Wyland frowned. "Of course I'm going. Why wouldn't I?"
"Because," said Mæva, leaning back on one arm, "you would be a terrible liability. You have not a thimbleful of mystic power to you. You won't be able to harm our foes, won't be able to fight on their level, and will distract and slow the rest of us who would have to take care of you."
Ser Wyland's face darkened and he rose to his feet, but it was clear he didn't know how to respond.
Iskra raised a hand, forestalling him. "Then, who should accompany you?"
Mæva turned to regard Asho and Kethe. "Those two. The three of us shall move quickly, under the cover of my protective magic."
Asho blanched. "Just the three of us? Going up to the Skarpheðinn range? Alone?"
Mæva smiled and nodded. "Precisely."
Kethe set her bowl aside firmly. "An intelligent choice. After all, we're going to die soon anyway. When do we leave?"
"Kethe!" Iskra's outrage was scalding. "How dare you speak so flippantly about such matters!"
"You think me flippant?" Kethe's gaze was steady and without remorse.
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