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who resided in the rocks of the unseen Westhorns that lay beneath or beyond
those distant clouds.
The Westhorns, and Antonin, would have to wait, at least for a while, until
I had seen enough of Kyphros and the autarch to ensure the answers to
Brettel s questions and my own doubts.
While it was just past mid-morning, the menace that awaited me lay some
distance ahead, and like Gairloch, I was thirsty. Hungry or not, I also needed
to eat.
The river water was cold, cold enough both in drinking and in washing the
grime from my face to encourage my appetite, and to open some trail bread and
dried fruit from two packages near the top of the saddlebags provided by
Brettel. Being able to perceive what was inside closed sacks had some
advantages in the dark and when you didn t want to open sealed provisions. I
grinned, thinking how I had wondered how Justen always knew where things were.
Still munching on the bread, I wondered about the soldiers ahead, and about
the vulcrows, the ones I had not seen, only felt, over the next hill, and
those circling further away.
The breeze from the south increased, and with it came the odor of ashes and
charred hides. I had to concentrate to finish the slice of the second dried
apple. After filling my canteen and taking another long swallow of cold river
water, I reclaimed Gairloch from his browsing.
Come on. It s time to figure out what s ahead. Whuffff&
Gairloch s steps became more skittery as we neared the top of the hill
beyond the bridge. Yeee-ahh, yeee-ahh, yeee-ahh&
Just before the crest of the hill at the right edge of the road was a
square limestone marker, no more than knee-high. Only two words- Kyphros set
above Gallos, with a line separating the two. But someone had tried to
scratch a skull next to the Kyphros.
Casting my senses ahead of me, I could feel nothing living& except for the
vulcrows perched in a barren low tree just beyond the hilltop. Whuffl&
We passed the marker and continued over the crest, the odor of ash even
more pronounced in the light breeze. & uuugggghhhh&
My guts nearly wrenched out of my body, and I swallowed hard to keep the
just-eaten bread and fruit within me.
Except for the two vulcrows perched on the leafless trunk of a white oak,
nothing lived.
Except for the road, which only bore a white dusting, thick white ash
covered the entire hillside nearly a kay in every direction, so white that it
first looked like a blanket of snow. Only a few blasted tree trunks, all white
oaks, poked through the calf-deep ash. Yeee-ahh&
The pair of vulcrows flapped into the late morning sky, heading south
toward those circling the higher hills. Wheeeeeeee&
I didn t blame Gairloch as he pulled up short of the ash. Easy& easy&
There was nothing there. My staff was cool to the touch, and nothing lived.
Nothing.
But I knew that the white ash represented the remains of men, women,
horses, grasses, trees, birds, insects, and even fall flowers.
My guts twisted again. Wheeeee& eeeee&
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Easy& easy& we have to go on.
More than ever I had to go on, deeper into the war zone that was Northern
Kyphros, deeper into the destruction that seemed so unnecessary to me, and so
critical to Antonin and the white wizards.
& come on& I patted his neck and flicked the reins.
Skittish step by skittish step, Gairloch carried me straight down the
ash-dusted road.
At the bottom of the hill the ash ended, almost as though a line had been
drawn, and the fall grasses and the scrub brush resumed. The road clay was
again damp, and I wondered if the rain had been created to damp the ash into
place.
I shook my head. Who knew why the chaos-wizards did all that they did?
Yee-ah&
The echoing cry of the vulcrow reminded me there was more of the same-or
worse-yet to come.
At one time, the hills had been farmed. The stone pillars of fences
remained, as did a few rotting split rails. Every so often, we passed a
chimney emerging from a thicket of bushes or even standing alone and rising
out of a hummock of grasses.
The hills were not wild again, nor were they tame, but somewhere in
between. Abandoned apple trees still ran in orchard rows with gaps showing
those that had died and not been replaced. Taller blocks of mixed oaks and
conifers outlined old woodlots, while scrub oak and redberry meadows indicated
once-cleared fields.
With each hill, we neared the circling vulcrows, and an underlying sense of
white menace.
Yeee-ah, yee-ah &
To the west, the clouds kept building. My stomach continued to churn.
Finally, I put a shield around me. Not one that would just keep me from
being seen. Like me, any chaos-wizard could have seen through a visual
reflective shield. This shield would keep someone from throwing energies at
me. Light is energy, and if I could keep light from touching me, I ought to be
able to keep from being turned into white ash. The only problem was that I
still couldn t see with my eyes because the shield kept light and energy from
touching me.
I wondered why I didn t cool off, but my body did generate heat. That
brought up another question-like why my body heat didn t fry me inside my
shell-but I let my thoughts work on the shield& and the shield let energy
escape.
Could I build a shield that worked both ways-letting no energy enter or
escape? Probably, but for what reason?
Wheeee& eeee
Yeee-ah&
By now it was early afternoon, and we had nearly reached the top of a
particularly long hill. From what I could tell, the vulcrows were circling
over the next hill.
I cast out my senses.
The fight was over, for the soldiers were methodically moving on foot,
their horses tethered or picketed.
A point of white resided there as well, a living point of white, a
chaos-wizard.
There was no point in trying to avoid the soldiers, not with more than a
score of them plus a wizard who could track me. But I didn t like it. I had no
desire to be any sort of hero. I just had less desire to be run down until I
was too exhausted to fight. Besides, the soldiers couldn t fight what they
couldn t see.
The wizard was another question.
Still& I looked behind me, as far as my senses would carry me.
I wished I hadn t.
Wheeee& Gairloch tossed his head, as if in warning.
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More than twoscore cavalry had passed over the South-brook bridge and now
trotted onward, less than two long hills behind. Behind them& much further
behind, I could sense a rolling wave of chaos; and I couldn t tell for sure,
but would have been willing to bet that it centered on a white-gold coach and
Antonin. Where he had been when I disrupted the prefect s chaos-fountain, I
didn t know, but he was definitely on my trail.
All of this had developed because I d wanted to do something to repay
Destrin for his support and to ensure a future for Deirdre. But given the
results, and Justen s warnings, and Antonin s meddling in the war between
Gallos and Kyphros& it wasn t as though I had much choice. Someone thought
there was a real wizard loose, and all my actions had pointed to me-and I
scarcely knew what I was doing.
So they wanted me, whatever the cost. All too predictable.
I glanced back over my shoulder.
Wheeee& uhhhh& wheeee.
Gairloch s protest jerked my head back toward the crest of the hill before
us.
Right-handed, I chucked the reins. Come on, old fellow. We can t exactly
turn back.
Whheee.
No, we can t. The prefect might let you haul baggage carts, but I d end up
at the festivities in his central square. The central attraction, you might
say. I extended my left hand toward the staff, still safe and waiting in the
saddle holder. Oooo& The subjective heat flashed to my fingers even before
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