The Pool of Two Moons (41 page)

"Aye, where is he?" a swarthy man asked, his thick earring glinting.

"And Gwilym? Where's the ugly man?" Nina asked, bursting into tears. Lilanthe and Brun, suddenly realizing Dide was not with them, turned to scan the night. Iain stood up, his face going white. "Where's Douglas?"

Elfrida shrugged unhappily. "I thought he was just behind us."

"Ye mean they have no' come out? They're lost in the marsh?" Lilanthe's voice rose in sudden fear.

"I hope no'," Iain replied grimly. "If they have w-w-wandered from the path, I have no' got m-m-much chance o' being able to find them."

"Perhaps they will find the way ..." Elfrida said comfortingly.

Iain shook his head. "The marshes have many dangers," he said. "Even Gwilym does no' know them all. If we do no' find them soon, we never will."

Dide had stopped to wait for Gwilym the Ugly, who had again slipped in the mud and fallen. He knew better than to offer his hand, waiting till the warlock had struggled to his feet before moving to his side.

"Tasting the mud again, Ugly?"

"Mmm, I'm so glad to be back I simply have to kiss Arran's sweet soil at every opportunity," Gwilym responded sardonically. He brushed off his mud-smeared tunic with his hand. "I look like a mudsprite," he said ruefully.

"What's a mudsprite?"

"One o' the more delightful faeries o' the bog," Gwilym answered. "Mudsprites lie just below the surface of the mud and pull unwary passers-by in."

"Charming."

"Indeed, like so many things o' Arran. It is a charming place indeed."

"Ye think so?" Douglas's voice preceded him out of the darkness. "Personally I think it a horrible place, I'll be happy if I never have to come here again."

"Happen we should get out o' it before we start worrying about returning," Gwilym replied, not bothering to explain he was being sarcastic.

They looked around and realized the procession had already moved out of sight. "Let's hurry," Douglas said, shivering a little.

They could see the faint, dancing blur of Iain's witch-lights and set off in pursuit, Gwilym holding his staff high so the light at the apex spread before them.

"I canna hear the others," Douglas said. "Should we call, tell them to wait?"

"It's risky enough showing the lights," Gwilym said. "If the Khan'cohban hears shouting, he'll be on our track in a flash."

They pressed on into the misty darkness, hurrying now. Gwilym slipped again and fell with a curse, and Douglas tried to help him up, only to have his hand thrust away fiercely. "I can manage, thank ye," Gwilym said roughly. "No need to wait for me, I'll catch up."

Douglas opened his mouth to protest, caught an admonishing glance from Dide, and shut it again. He led the way instead, testing the path ahead with a stick. Once he gave a scream and pointed shakily at two huge eyes staring at him out of the darkness. Gwilym brought the witch-light flickering up, and they saw a huge frog sitting placidly on a log. It was squat and broad, as high as Dide's waist, with bulbous eyes that gleamed orange.

"That thing does no' eat humans, does it?" Douglas's voice shook. Gwilym shook his head. "Nay, insects and Mesmer-dean only."

"It eats Mesmerdean?"

"The creatures' only natural predator," the warlock answered.

"Glad to ken something gets those nasty creatures," Douglas murmured. "Let's hurry, I can feel them watching us."

"It will no' be Mesmerdean watching so near the frogs."

"Well, something is watching us and I do no' like it!"

They left the frog behind, its deep belling tone ringing through the forest, and hurried in the direction of the wavering line of lights. Gwilym was frowning, his harshfeatured face set in grim lines. Once he called,

"Iain!" but there was no response.

"I thought ye said no' to call?" Douglas objected.

"I think we should try and catch them up quickly." Gwiiym's voice was bleaker than ever. "I have a very bad feeling."

"Hey, the path seems to have disappeared," Douglas said suddenly. "I canna feel any firm ground on either side."

Gwilym pushed up next to him, raising his staff so they could see further. On all sides mud puckered and gurgled. They were standing on a floating hillock which teetered under their weight. "But the lights . . ." Dide said, pointing. Ahead floated a few pallid balls of light, flickering slightly, enticing them on. Gwilym groaned. "Wisps! We've been led astray by bloody wisps!" He struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Fool!" he grated. "Gwilym the Fool."

They turned and were gingerly making their way from hillock to hillock toward the trees, in search of firmer land, when Douglas suddenly gave a shriek and toppled into the swamp. He was sucked under quickly, only his desperate white face visible above the mud. Quick as thought Gwilym flung himself down and reached out his staff to the boy. Douglas caught hold of it, but they had a hard struggle to draw him free of the quicksand.

At last he was hauled out, plastered with evil-smelling mud. "Something pulled me in," he cried. "I felt a hand on my ankle."

"Mudsprites!" Gwilym groaned. "Just what we need."

They huddled together on the hillock. "What do we do now?" Dide cried. He saw a pale hand creep out of the mud and swiped at it viciously with his staff. It withdrew quickly, and there was a plop of mud nearby.

"Hope we did no' wander too far from the path and that the others realize we are missing soon and come to search for us," Gwilym said. "Otherwise, try and survive the night." Douglas swallowed. "Ye say that as if ye do no' think it is likely."

"That's because I do no' think it likely," the warlock responded. "We are in the middle o' mudsprite field, we have a Khan'cohban hunting us, and all the snakes in this blaygird bog are poisonous. I got out o' this marsh alive once; I do no' think I can rely on my luck a second time." Douglas was very white under the mud and rotten leaves sticking to his face. "If we just retrace our steps

. . ."

"We can try," Gwilym said in a weary tone.

They saw another line of dancing lights to their far left. "Do ye think . . . ?" Douglas cried hopefully.

"It'll be wisps again," Gwilym said and sat down on a half-submerged log. "Better get used to them, lad, else ye'll be following them deeper into the marsh."

Dide gradually became aware of a prickle at the back of his mind. He shook it away, but it returned in greater force. Suddenly he plunged his hand into his pack and drew out a golden ball. It shone dimly in the darkness. He stared into it incredulously. "Lilanthe?" he whispered.
Dide. Are ye there?

Lilanthe?

Aye. We are searching for ye. Do ye ken where ye are?

Dide gave a sardonic laugh.
Somewhere in the marshes . . .

Iain wants to ken if ye can see landmarks. He says ye may die if we do no' reach ye. There are
many dangerous things in the bog, he says we must find ye soon, that his magic had been keeping
many o' the creatures away . . .

There is too much mist, I canna see anything.

I can sense ye ... I will lead Iain to ye.

No, Lilanthe, it's too dangerous . . .

But the tree-shifter had broken off the contact, and Dide was left staring into the ball. He looked up and told them what she had said. Gwilym said heavily, "She will no' be able to find us, the marsh gases confuse the mind and everything looks the same."

"She has strong mind-powers," Dide said slowly. "If anyone can find us, it is Lilanthe." The three of them rested a while, beating off the mud-sprites with their sticks and sharing some food. A bright green snake slid by, watching them with narrow, black eyes, and all around them giant frogs sang.

"At least we are safe from the Mesmerdean while the frogs sing," Gwilym said dourly.

"How come? I thought we were safe from them anyway."

"Iain
was safe from them," Gwilym replied. "The Mesmerdean know who I am. They have caught me once before to please Margrit—one may decide to do so again."

"Well, ye are cheerful company," Douglas said, whacking at a pair of bulbous eyes floating toward him through the mud. "Remind me never to spend a night with ye in a swamp again."

"Believe me, if we come through this night alive I shall never go anywhere near a swamp again," Gwilym said. "May Ea be my witness."

Dide . . .

Lilanthe? Where are ye?

I can feel ye close now. Can ye light a flare o' some sort?

Dide obliged, sending a tall blue flame shooting up into the night.

"If that does no' bring the Khan'cohban down on us, nothing will," Gwilym sighed. They heard a cry across the field, and then a chain of white-blue lights came bobbing toward them.
Careful, it's bog and quieksand,
Dide projected anxiously.

Iain is cutting down some sort o' tree with big leaves,
Lilanthe responded.
He and Brun are
throwing them into the bog, making a path. Can ye see us?

Aye, I think so. If they are your lights and no' more o' those wicked wisps.
I can see your light. Hang on, we'll be there soon.

Dide relayed the message to the others and was glad to see Douglas's tense face relax a little. The mist was beginning to pale, and the mudsprites made a concerted rush at their hillock as if anxious to drown them before the sun rose. They had ten minutes of hard fighting, throwing off the mudsprites with boot, stick, stump and fist, before Iain reached them over his impromptu bridge. He dismissed the faeries with a flick of his hand and a contemptuous word, and they sank back below the mud with a splash and a gurgle.

"Led astray by wisps!" Iain said, a smile cracking his tired, muddy face. "Gwilym, I be surprised at ye, intrepid marsh explorer that ye are."

The warlock smiled in return and allowed them to help him cross the sinking bridge of glossy leaves, too tired to insist he needed no help.

Lilanthe and Brun were waiting anxiously on the shore, both covered in mud and leaves from head to toe. Lilanthe had never looked more like an
uile-bheist
but Dide walked straight out of the bog and into her arms, hugging her fiercely. He found he had tears in his eyes. "Clever lass!" he cried. "I never even thought o' the ball! I gave it to ye in case ye got lost, no' I!"

Lilanthe could not speak, content to have Dide's arms hard around her and his face wet on her neck. She hugged him back, her own eyes prickling with relief, while birds sang around them in the dawn. If the Khan'cohban had seen their distress flare, he was too far away to reach them in time. Iain was able to lead them out of the marshes and into Aslinn without further incident. They were greeted with cries of relief. It had taken Iain and Lilanthe much longer to rescue their three companions and retrace their steps than expected, and it was now fully light. They were all too exhausted to walk any further and collapsed onto the blankets to rest.

"Ye canna sleep now, we have to warn the Righ!" Douglas cried. "We have to tell him the Bright Soldiers are coming."

"The Bright Soldiers?" Dide echoed sharply. "Ye mean the Tirsoilleirean?"

"Aye, they signed a t-t-treaty with my m-m-mother. They plan to invade Eileanan." Quickly Iain told them about the Bright Soldiers' schemes.

Gwilym and Dide glanced at each other. "Aya meant their armor shining in the sun," the jongleur murmured. "And no doubt heard them called the Bright Soldiers, as they always are."

"And that explains the reports o' strangers and lights in the marsh," Gwilym replied. "Though what did they want with the firework magicians?"

"We have to head for Rhyssmadill! My father is there and the Righ—they'll be taken by surprise!" Douglas warned.

"When did M-M-Mother say they intended to attack? After the Lammas Congress? We'll never make it, n-n-no' even if we had flying horses to ride on," Iain said. "We could head for Dun Eidean though, G-G-Gilliane and Ghislaine's grandmother is the d-d-dowager banpri-onnsa and the city will listen to her."

"What about Rhyssmadill?" Douglas cried.

Gilliane said diffidently, "I could try and send a dream message to my mother. She and my father went with my aunt and uncle to Rhyssmadill."

"Ye can send dream messages?" Dide's voice was excited.

"My mother is a NicAislin," she replied, shrugging. "I travel strange places in my dreams and so does Ghis-laine. I have never been taught how but the banprionnsa was sure we could learn to be Dream-Walkers—that is why she stole us."

"So we will head for Dun Eidean to warn the MacThanach's m-m-mother, and Gilliane will try and warn Rhyssmadill . . ." Iain began.

"I do no' want to go back into Blessem," Lilanthe cried. "These last few months have been a nightmare, I dinna want to go through that again."

Gwilym was also shaking his head, as were the two half-faeries from the Theurgia. "They tried to stone me to death in Blairgowrie," the corrigan boy said, his one eye obdurate as stone. "Do no' tell me ye can keep me safe in Blessem! Everyone kens they hate
uile-bheistean."

"I am going back to the forests," the tree-shifter Corissa said.

"But do ye no' wish to help us?" Douglas asked, incredulous. "All o' Eileanan is under threat!" She shrugged. "Wha' is that to me? I care no' who rules as long as I can run free as I please. Humans have done naught but ill to me."

"How can ye say that?" Douglas was incensed. "If it was no' for us, ye'd still be in that blaygird tower!"

"If it was no' for humans, I'd no' be in the tower in the first place," Corissa pointed out, calmly devouring a second bowlful of vegetable stew.

"Do no' judge all humans by the few ye have known," Enit said gently. "But o' course, ye are free to go as ye please. May I make some suggestions?"

Everyone nodded. The old woman said, "We have to get word to the cities quickly, and I canna see that a pack o' children on foot are the way to do it. If it is true the Bright Soldiers plan to attack Dun Eidean and Dun Gorm, the whole countryside will go up in flames. Ye will all be killed. Nay, I have a much better plan."