Taste of Lightning (20 page)

‘Perrin! Perrin, wait! I don't –' Tansy followed, her face creased in bewilderment.

‘We have to find Skir and Penthesi before they do,' called Perrin over his shoulder. ‘I told you not to send the horse away.

You're going to need him.'

‘What?
I'll
need him?' Tansy caught up with Perrin at last at the top of the gully, which had deepened beside them into a steep-sided ravine with the creek running along the bottom. She seized his sleeve and held fast. ‘Perrin,
stop
. What's going on?'

‘The rendezvous team, the second team. They're waiting for us at Dody's Leap. For me and Skir. To take Skir back to Rengan. That's what the boat's for. Don't look at me like that. I've got it all worked out. They won't get
you
. You'll take Penthesi, just like we said in the beginning, remember? You can ride him home to Lotch, or wherever you want. Don't
look
like that. You'll be safe, Tansy. We just have to find the damn horse.'

Tansy stared at him. ‘You're taking Skir to Rengan?'

‘Those are the orders. Hand over the target at Dody's Leap.'

‘But – you're supposed to be rescuing him. Taking him home. If you take him to Rengan, that ain't a rescue. That's kidnapping.'

Perrin shrugged impatiently. ‘I only know my orders.'

‘But what do they want him for?'

‘To be Rengan's hostage instead of Baltimar's, I suppose.

High Command didn't confide the details in me – I'm just a humble swordsman, remember.' He ran his hands through his hair. ‘What? Stop looking at me like that. I told you, I'll see you get away safely. I won't let them hurt you. What's the matter?'

‘What's the
matter
?' Tansy's face was white. ‘You lied to us! You been lying all along! You said we were going to Cragonlands, you promised –'

Perrin spoke over her. ‘But you're going to be safe –'

Tansy cried, ‘I thought we were together – all of us together. I trusted you, and all the time you –'

‘I had
orders
. I never said –'

Tansy choked. She put out her hands blindly in front of her to ward him off, and then she was running, slipping and stumbling on the carpet of fallen needles, deeper into the forest.

‘Tansy! Tansy,
listen
–'

Perrin wheeled around. He heard voices, not far off. Rengani voices. The bridge must be nearer than he'd thought. He hesitated, peering through the trees. They were here, they were close by. All he had to do was walk a few steps toward the bridge; the Rengani Army would close up around him like a fist . . . He shut his eyes for an instant. Then, just as if he were on a parade ground, he turned on his heel, and took off after Tansy.

She hadn't got far. He was almost close enough to touch her. ‘Tansy . . .' She spun around and wildly swung her fist at him. He caught her wrist before she could hit him. Their feet slipped on the needles. ‘Tansy, wait –'

She cried, ‘I hate you!' Her face was blotched and swollen with tears.

A horse's scream rang through the forest.

Tansy gasped, ‘Penthesi!' She shook her wrist free and tore off toward the sound, back toward the gully. Perrin followed, close on her heels.

Tansy burst into the clearing. Penthesi was rearing at the very edge of the ravine, his front legs thrashing the air, nostrils flared, eyes rolling in terror. Skir cowered on the ground beneath his flailing hoofs; sacks and bundles, all their precious supplies, slid off the horse's back and spilled down into the gully: the bag of oats, the bed-rolls, the cooking pan.

‘Skir, get back!' Tansy darted forward. ‘I'll take his head –'

‘Let me sing first.' Perrin thrust out his hand. ‘Good boy, good boy . . .' He sang a chantment, rather breathlessly, and Penthesi shuddered and lowered his head, blowing through wide nostrils. Tansy grabbed his bridle, dancing back out of reach of his hoofs. A flurry of small stones skittered over the edge.

Skir sat up, feeling Perrin's song slow his own drumming heart. ‘The Captain's close. But this ravine marks the border. The other side is Cragonlands.'

Perrin nodded. ‘We can't use the bridge.' He shot a look at Tansy. ‘We'll have to cross here.'

Tansy threw back her head and glared at him as she hung onto Penthesi's bridle. Her grey eyes were huge in her pale face. ‘We? Who's we, Perrin?'

Perrin reached out and gripped her by the shoulders. ‘All of us together, just like you said. We're all crossing into Cragonlands. You, me, Skir, Penthesi. All right?'

For an instant they gazed at each other; then Tansy nodded. Perrin let her go and turned to Skir. ‘But we can't use the bridge because Rengani soldiers are crawling all over it.'

‘Rengani?' said Skir faintly. ‘But –'

Perrin swung back to Tansy. ‘Can Penthesi jump it?'

‘All stirred up like this? You must be joking.'

‘Pity you're
not
an ironcrafter,' said Perrin to Skir. ‘You could just –' He brought his hands together to mime the sides of the ravine drawing close, then parting again.

‘Sorry for the inconvenience,' said Skir bitterly, stabbed once more by his own uselessness.

There was a noise of snapping twigs and distant shouts. Tansy's eyes widened. ‘That ain't the Captain. That's more'n one, that's soldiers!'

‘Then we have to cross. Now.' Perrin glanced around. ‘There! Where the gap's narrow.'

He pointed to a place where the sides of the abyss leaned close together. From the ledge on their own side to the lower clifftop opposite was about the distance of a long, but not impossible, jump. ‘But the other side doesn't look very safe. The edge is crumbling away.'

Tansy looked. ‘I can jump that easy,' she said at once.

‘Let's see you do it then,' said Perrin, and again the challenging look flared between them.

Tansy thrust up her chin, gathered herself and sprang. She landed in a heap on the far side; a small cascade of stones rattled down the cliff-face.

‘Easy as jumping a creek,' she said. ‘Long as you don't look down.' She held out her hand to Penthesi. ‘Come on, darling boy. Step over.'

But Penthesi wouldn't budge. He was hemmed in by the trees.

Tansy looked at Perrin. ‘No room to jump.'

‘He'll jump if I tell him to,' said Perrin grimly. ‘Or we'll leave him behind.'

‘No!' said Tansy. ‘You said all of us. All of us, right?'

‘Right,' said Perrin softly.

Tansy peered down into the depths of the ravine, swallowed, then nodded;
far more concerned
, thought Skir,
with the damn
horse's safety than she had been with her own
. She held out her hand again. Without looking at Perrin she said, ‘Sing him over then.'

Perrin sang. The chantment made Penthesi's ears prick, and he whinnied. He took one step back, then a step forward. Perrin frowned, stopped singing, then began a different chantment, livelier, more rousing. Penthesi tossed his head and pawed the ground.

Skir was aware of a gathering of muscle, and then the leap: a black blur and a rush of wind. And Penthesi was across, shaking his head as if even he couldn't believe what he'd done, and Tansy threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

‘My turn,' said Perrin. He chewed his lip, kicked off against the side of the cliff, and jumped. He landed hard, half over the brink of the ravine, and his legs thrashed in mid-air, dislodging loose stones from the crumbling edge. Tansy grabbed his arms and hauled him up.

‘What, no kiss?' panted Perrin. ‘Well, it was worth a try.' But he jammed his hands into his pockets to stop them shaking.

Tansy said in a low voice, ‘Reckon that scared you more than the fight at Rarr.'

‘Reckon it did,' said Perrin. Their eyes met. ‘No going back now.'

Tansy said fiercely, ‘There wasn't never any going back.' Her face flushed, and she looked away. ‘Now Skir,' she said abruptly.

Skir stood hunched, arms folded. The three figures on the other side seemed very far away. Faintly he heard Perrin say, ‘Come on, darling boy.'

The malice drifted past without touching him. Skir advanced to the edge. It was a long way down, much higher than his window at Arvestel. Somewhere far below a creek dashed over rocks.

He only had to step off the cliff. Just one step.

‘Don't look down!' Tansy's voice seemed to come to him through a long tunnel. ‘You can do it.'

Much sharper was the yell from behind him: ‘Over here!' Boots crunched through needles.

Skir swayed. This was his chance, to plunge into nothing. He tried to lift his foot, but he couldn't move.
Useless.
He couldn't even do this.

Then the strangest thing happened: he heard Beeman's voice, warm and clear, as if he were right there in the forest.

Skir!

The three figures on the other side of the ravine wavered before his eyes; he seemed to see Beeman standing there with them, shaking his head.

Skir, you spend altogether too much time thinking about
yourself.

‘I can't help it. I'm not brave like Tansy.'

You think it's brave to die? Courage is to go on living.

‘I killed that man –'

And if you step off this cliff, you'll have killed another.

‘The Witch –'

Superstitious rubbish.

‘I'm a fraud. I'm not a chanter like Perrin.'

If there was a mistake, it was the priests' mistake, not yours. You
don't have to be a chanter to make use of chantment.

A shiver ran through Skir. He felt light and tingling all over, as if someone had taken a blanket off his head; he was filled with a strange exultant calm. His eyes flicked open and he looked at Perrin. ‘Sing me across,' he called.

Perrin's eyes widened. ‘I can't. We've already had this discussion.'

Tansy cried, ‘Help him, Perrin, just try!'

‘Do it!' commanded Skir.

Perrin shot him a look of surprise. ‘All right.'

Skir stared straight ahead. Perrin's song began. The chantment quickened, and Skir felt the power of the magic reach for him, and pull. His knees bent beneath him, charged with a strength he didn't know he possessed. Perrin's voice tugged, a wind yanking a kite.
Yes
, thought Skir, and he jumped.

As he flew, he sensed, without seeing it, the void that whistled below. He hung in mid-air, poised between earth and sky, between life and death. For a single heartbeat, the chantment held him, and then the crumbling ground slammed into his face and his chest. Pain radiated from his swollen nose; hands grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. He was safe. He was alive, in Cragonlands. He had crossed the border; not just the border between two lands, but the border between one life and another.

Perrin kicked at the cliff's edge. Stones and chunks of earth rattled to the bottom of the ravine. ‘Break it, quick, so they can't follow!'

This was another task that an ironcrafter could have accomplished in moments, but Perrin refrained from saying so. Tansy and Skir stamped at the lip of the abyss. Penthesi struck with his rear hoofs, and the clatter of rocks rose to the thunder of a small avalanche.

Tansy said over and over, ‘I knew you could do it, I knew it!'

Skir wondered if she was talking to him or to Perrin, but then her voice faded. A dark tunnel closed around his eyes. His knees buckled and there was roaring in his head. An arm gripped his shoulders. Skir swayed, and tried to lift his head. There was something important he had to say – very important – but the blackness bore down.

Across the ravine, far away, in another country, in Baltimar, was a cloaked figure on horseback. Someone shouted his name. Then the blackness closed over him.

‘Put him on Penthesi,' panted Tansy. She held Skir's feet, while Perrin dragged him under the arms.

‘Very funny. I can hardly hold him, let alone lift him. He's damn heavy for such a little runt . . .'

Tansy dropped Skir's feet. They were well back from the ravine's edge, hidden behind curtains of needlewood. Tansy wriggled forward through the branches.

‘The Captain's riding away,' she reported. ‘He's gone.'

‘What about the Balts?'

‘Still crashing around. Wait. There's something – wait.' The needles clashed softly as Tansy vanished.

A few moments later she returned with needles in her hair and a long scratch on her cheek. ‘There's more coming along the bottom of the ravine, about half-a-dozen. Your lot. Ganis.'

‘They must have heard all those rocks fall, and come up from the bridge to take a look.' Perrin scrubbed his hands through his hair. ‘This is a rotten place to hide. All right for us, but Penthesi . . .'

He didn't say
we should have left him behind
, but Tansy heard it in his voice. She said, ‘Pity they can't all see Skir lying here looking dead. Then they'd leave us alone.'

‘Tansy,' said Perrin slowly. ‘You're a genius. Do you trust me?'

‘After today, what do you think? I don't trust you no further than I can spit.'

Perrin grinned. ‘That should be just about far enough.' His face was radiant. ‘This is going to be magnificent.'

There was only just enough time. Tansy scrambled down to where the cliff jutted out in a rough, wide shelf and lay down in a hollow in the rock.

‘Closer to the edge,' hissed Perrin. ‘They have to see your hair. Don't move, I'm sending Penthesi down.'

There was a brief silence, then Tansy heard the hesitant steps of the big horse, and his uneasy breathing as he descended to the ledge. Perrin's chantment, very faint, sounded from above. Of course it had to be faint, so no one else could hear it, but what if Penthesi couldn't hear it either? Tansy felt a wave of fear. Penthesi gazed at her with a troubled expression. He lowered his nose to nuzzle her, and she stifled a gasp as his breath tickled her neck.