across and twice Medair's height. A gate of dull black metal blocked the way, and Medair could see little in the inky blackness beyond the bars. Then she heard something move within, and backed away. The gate appeared to be designed to raise up into the rock and there was a faint scent of animal, not wholly unpleasant.
"Something which snatches," Cor-Ibis suggested. "Whoever is meant to raise the gates when the mist descends has not been attending his duty."
Medair stared at his cool profile, then continued walking. She felt a brief resistance on the rope before he too moved away from the cave.
"Had you been in Decia, before the Conflagration?" she asked, turning her mind from the ordeal she had just endured and whatever was within that cage. There were too many things she couldn't bear thinking of.
"Not officially."
More shape-changing. "Was it as...foul?"
"No. Estarion was simply a greedy man. Competitive, domineering, but not cruel. A capable leader, although he left much of the practicalities of his rule to his sister, preferring to treat and deal and scheme for expansion. He had a hatred of losing, for it rocked his belief in his own superiority. It is not altogether surprising that he was arrogant enough to turn to wild magic, though I might wish I had anticipated it."
"Why would he remake Decia into this? " she asked, staring up. The castle was like the backdrop to a mummer's play: lowering, evil, and wrong.
"I doubt he had any thought of transformation. Certainly no considered scheme of any would-be conqueror need include the resurrection of the Mersians' capital, or the creation of inland seas – or gods. Estarion merely opened a door."
"If he does so again, what determines if there'll be another Conflagration, or the creeping blackness which took Sar-Ibis?"
He didn't answer, looking ahead at another cave closed off with an iron gate.
"This is different," Medair said, stopping some distance from the gate and wrinkling her nose at the rank scent. A high, whining growl whipped into the night, redolent with hunger and frustration, and Medair was hard put not to step back. "Not what was in the last cave."
"No. I do not recognise the cry, but this is obviously a predator. The last cage was not a meat-eater, unless I miss my guess. Perhaps food for this one, or for some other purpose." He took her arm and they edged past the cave, then several more without gates as they made their way around to the eastern face of Falcon Hill.
A ramp stretched down from the southern corner of the hill toward the road east. Medair and Cor-Ibis, at the northern corner, were able to gaze directly along the ascent as it rose through two blockhouses to the massive castle gates. Great braziers on either side of the gates held tapering mounds of fire, reminding Medair inevitably of the Conflagration. Orange light gleamed off brass bindings. Both of the blockhouses were also alight, huge bowls of leaping fire on the flat roofs of the watching posts, casting the heavy portcullises below into deep shadow.
"The road east is likely also blocked," Cor-Ibis said. "When the moon drops the shadow of the hill would shield us most of the way to the first fortification, but we will not risk going so close. That rock bluff three-quarters of the distance along is ideal, for we will need to cross unseen in the morning."
"Through the forest again?"
"That remains to be seen. We will need to keep to the edge of the mist along here."
That was hard, to step back into the muffling chill, and walk almost wholly submerged. The corridor, clear of both mist and trees, drew her toward exposure, but though the watching-posts were distant, whoever manned them would surely have been alerted by the rise of the mist. Anyone striding along the gap would be asking for notice.
Before reaching the spur, Cor-Ibis stopped again.
"Can you climb this?" he asked, gazing across the corridor to the shadowy
"Something which snatches," Cor-Ibis suggested. "Whoever is meant to raise the gates when the mist descends has not been attending his duty."
Medair stared at his cool profile, then continued walking. She felt a brief resistance on the rope before he too moved away from the cave.
"Had you been in Decia, before the Conflagration?" she asked, turning her mind from the ordeal she had just endured and whatever was within that cage. There were too many things she couldn't bear thinking of.
"Not officially."
More shape-changing. "Was it as...foul?"
"No. Estarion was simply a greedy man. Competitive, domineering, but not cruel. A capable leader, although he left much of the practicalities of his rule to his sister, preferring to treat and deal and scheme for expansion. He had a hatred of losing, for it rocked his belief in his own superiority. It is not altogether surprising that he was arrogant enough to turn to wild magic, though I might wish I had anticipated it."
"Why would he remake Decia into this? " she asked, staring up. The castle was like the backdrop to a mummer's play: lowering, evil, and wrong.
"I doubt he had any thought of transformation. Certainly no considered scheme of any would-be conqueror need include the resurrection of the Mersians' capital, or the creation of inland seas – or gods. Estarion merely opened a door."
"If he does so again, what determines if there'll be another Conflagration, or the creeping blackness which took Sar-Ibis?"
He didn't answer, looking ahead at another cave closed off with an iron gate.
"This is different," Medair said, stopping some distance from the gate and wrinkling her nose at the rank scent. A high, whining growl whipped into the night, redolent with hunger and frustration, and Medair was hard put not to step back. "Not what was in the last cave."
"No. I do not recognise the cry, but this is obviously a predator. The last cage was not a meat-eater, unless I miss my guess. Perhaps food for this one, or for some other purpose." He took her arm and they edged past the cave, then several more without gates as they made their way around to the eastern face of Falcon Hill.
A ramp stretched down from the southern corner of the hill toward the road east. Medair and Cor-Ibis, at the northern corner, were able to gaze directly along the ascent as it rose through two blockhouses to the massive castle gates. Great braziers on either side of the gates held tapering mounds of fire, reminding Medair inevitably of the Conflagration. Orange light gleamed off brass bindings. Both of the blockhouses were also alight, huge bowls of leaping fire on the flat roofs of the watching posts, casting the heavy portcullises below into deep shadow.
"The road east is likely also blocked," Cor-Ibis said. "When the moon drops the shadow of the hill would shield us most of the way to the first fortification, but we will not risk going so close. That rock bluff three-quarters of the distance along is ideal, for we will need to cross unseen in the morning."
"Through the forest again?"
"That remains to be seen. We will need to keep to the edge of the mist along here."
That was hard, to step back into the muffling chill, and walk almost wholly submerged. The corridor, clear of both mist and trees, drew her toward exposure, but though the watching-posts were distant, whoever manned them would surely have been alerted by the rise of the mist. Anyone striding along the gap would be asking for notice.
Before reaching the spur, Cor-Ibis stopped again.
"Can you climb this?" he asked, gazing across the corridor to the shadowy
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