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549 lines
26 KiB
HTML
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<head>
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<title>Mythlands - Chapter 25</title>
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<h1>25</h1>
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<p>
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The ache had faded from Corriwen's heart when she woke before dawn after seeing the red hand in the sky and the flight of swans over the corona. She rose
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with the uncanny certainty that Jack Flint and Kerry would come looking for her.
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</p>
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<p>
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But her heart was not at peace, for when she awoke, Brodick was gone from the spot beside the fire where he had slept.
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</p>
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<p>
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She shook sleep away and moved to the edge of the hollow where they had sheltered and found hoofprints.
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</p>
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<p>
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Now she was curious as she followed the trail away from the campsite, for perhaps a mile from where they had slept, and heard the sound of voices.
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</p>
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<p>
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Her heart leapt. Brodick had found them. A smile dimpled her cheeks and she ran forward to greet Jack and Kerry.
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</p>
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<p>
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And then she stopped dead when she saw the Scree, and the joy in her heart turned instantly to fear.
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</p>
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<p>
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The Scree was leaning against the rock, a club over his shoulder. There were others there around a small fire, their hounds muzzled and the hogs pegged
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beyond the fire. As she drew back out of sight, aware that she had almost run into their arms, she saw Brodick.
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</p>
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<p>
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His back was towards her. The horse was hobbled some distance away, uneasy at being so near the Scree and their hounds. Her hand went to her knives,
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wishing she had a sword, or Jack's amberhorn bow, steeling herself for a fight and knowing she would have to rescue her cousin.
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</p>
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<p>
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Then Brodick stood up. He was not bound and shackled as she thought.
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</p>
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<p>
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Over the distance she heard his voice, though not the words, and then he laughed. He clapped one of the hunched Scree on the shoulder and Corriwen's heart
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sank. The troop were just like the ones who had hunted them all over Temair.
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</p>
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<p>
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<em>And Brodick was laughing with them</em>
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.
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</p>
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<p>
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Slowly, quietly, she pulled back, kept low until she was well out of sight, then ran back to the camp, making sure she stayed on rocky ground to leave no
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prints of her own. Her mind was in turmoil as she wrapped herself in her cloak, lay down again and closed her eyes, trying to think.
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</p>
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<p>
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She was lying still when Brodick came back, leading the horse by the reins.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Time to rise, cousin. We have a way to go.
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</p>
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<p>
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But where have you gone, in your heart, she asked herself, unable to look him in the eye, lest it betray her thoughts.
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</p>
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<p>
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Far in the east, the maelstrom was an inkblot low in the sky. Brodick shaded his eyes.
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</p>
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<p>
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"We should start before that overtakes us," he said. "It doesn't look natural to me."
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</p>
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<p>
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The forces of evil were gathering to destroy Temair. That much she knew.
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</p>
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<p>
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"It's Mandrake," she said, keeping her voice steady, testing his response "And that monster he is trying to raise. They have this power now. What will it
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be like when she is free?"
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</p>
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<p>
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"What can the Redthorn sword do to stop it?" Brodick asked.
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</p>
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<p>
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"It will unite the people again," she said, "and break Mandrake's power."
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</p>
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<p>
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"They are scattered or slaves," Brodick said flatly.
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</p>
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<p>
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"For now. But there is hope. If the beast gets free, there will be <em>no </em>life. Mandrake knows the sword is important, that's why has been hunting me.
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But he has hunted Jack and Kerry too. The Bard says he wants the Key."
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</p>
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<p>
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"The Key?" He lifted his eyes quickly. She saw his interest quicken.
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</p>
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<p>
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"The stone he wore on his neck," Corriwen said. "It's the Key to everything, so Finbar said. He made me promise not to tell Jack. The stone belonged to his
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father. He was a great man."
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</p>
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<p>
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She was watching his eyes. He had said nothing about his encounter with the Scree hunters and that meant he had much to hide. Corriwen wished she could
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look into his heart and discover why.
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</p>
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<p>
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That night, on the same night that Jack Flint groped in the dark with the saddlebags on Declan's horse, Corriwen Redthorn did exactly the same with
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Brodick's.
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</p>
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<p>
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They were beyond the boulder ground now, and close to the edge of the High Salt Plain. Few plants grew and they stopped for the night beside an outcrop
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which sheltered them from the wind.
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</p>
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<p>
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She couldn't sleep and even the Corona high above offered her no comfort as she waited in the cold until Brodick was asleep.
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</p>
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<p>
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The horse whinnied when she approached and she wondered whether she should just climb on the saddle and leave him.
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</p>
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<p>
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But she had to know.
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</p>
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<p>
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Very quietly she opened the saddle-pack and with stealthy fingers, she reached inside.
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</p>
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<hr/>
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<p>
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Far in the depths of the Black Barrow, the Morrigan, trapped since the days of Cullian the Traveller, sensed the coming together of all the pieces she had
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laid out.
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</p>
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<p>
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Her mind reached out, across the flat of the plain. She touched the small, black mind of a coiled adder and it writhed and sank its fangs into its own
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flesh and died in an instant.
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</p>
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<p>
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Her strength was increasing.
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</p>
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<p>
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She reached further and higher and from the crater-eyes of the great roak that circled above the ridge, she saw Mandrake's army turn back towards the dam.
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</p>
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<p>
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She saw Alevin's men ride through the cleft in the ridge and slaughter every Scree, but she knew now their fight was in vain. They would become her
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unwitting tools.
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</p>
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<p>
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<em>Too late. Too </em>
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late.
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</p>
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<p>
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She saw the small group on two horses, trudging north, heading directly towards where she waited for them, her hunger like a cold fire.
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</p>
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<p>
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She saw a girl and a man, on the edge of the salt plain, even closer, almost close enough to taste.
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</p>
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<p>
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And the heart stone. The heart stone was almost in her grasp.
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</p>
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<p>
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She laughed, in foul glee.
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</p>
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<p>
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The time was almost here.
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</p>
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<hr/>
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<p>
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Brodick woke when he felt the cold point of her blade against his throat. His hand instinctively jerked towards his knife.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Don't move," she said. "Traitor."
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</p>
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<p>
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"I don't understand…." He began to say.
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</p>
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<p>
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Her other hand held the Book of Ways. She raised it and his eyes flicked towards it.
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</p>
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<p>
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"You stole this."
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</p>
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<p>
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Brodick shook his head. "No. I found it. When the boy fell."
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</p>
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<p>
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"Boy?" Her voice was harsh and tight. "Jack Flint is more a man than you will ever be. He would never betray me."
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</p>
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<p>
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"And nor did I, cousin. Nor did I. The book was on the ground. I knew it was important to you."
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</p>
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<p>
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"And you never mentioned it? Just kept it hidden."
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</p>
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<p>
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"I…I…" for a second he was lost for words. "I saved your life. I fought for you."
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</p>
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<p>
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"Just who were you fighting for, Brodick?"
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</p>
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<p>
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"How can you not trust me?" he asked. The knife was still at his throat. "I am your cousin."
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</p>
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<p>
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"I saw you with the Scree," she said coldly. "I thought you were a prisoner. I was prepared to fight for you. But you were no prisoner. You were with the
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Scree."
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</p>
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<p>
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Brodick's eyes flicked to the side, over her shoulder.
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</p>
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<p>
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"What. Those<em> </em>Scree?"
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</p>
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<p>
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Her head turned before she could stop herself and his hand lashed out, clamped on her wrist and twisted. The knife fell to the ground. She tried to grab it
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back, but Brodick whipped his own knife from its sheath before she could reach it and held the edge against her neck. She dropped the book and clawed for
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his eyes, but he jerked back laughing and her fingers only caught the fine linen of his tunic. It ripped when he pulled away and there, just under his
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chin, she saw the heart-stone on its silver chain.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Corriwen," Brodick said, his voice now light. "Cousin Corriwen. I did save your life. And now this!" He shook his head in mock weariness.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Traitor," she hissed. She looked at the knife, saw the golden hilt, and in an instant, she was back on the battlefield, cradling her dead brother's head
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as his eyes blindly sought the far distance and the same golden knife-hilt stuck in his side, glinting with morning dew.
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</p>
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<p>
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She had known then that Cerwin had been killed by a traitor's hand. No Scree owned a knife like this one.
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</p>
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<p>
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She had taken it, wet with her brother's blood and wrapped it in cloth. It had been in her knapsack ever since.
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</p>
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<p>
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Now that knife's twin was against her neck, its blade pressing tight.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Not a traitor," Brodick said. "Just a realist."
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</p>
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<p>
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He smiled patronisingly at her. "I was on the winning<em> </em>side."
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</p>
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<p>
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"You betrayed your people," she gasped.
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</p>
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<p>
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"My people? I <em>have</em> no people. The third son of a chief on the far borders? By accident of birth, Mandrake was denied the Redthorn seat. By
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accident of birth, I had nothing. But Mandrake promised me more power than I dreamt of.
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</p>
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<p>
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She dropped her eyes, letting him think she was beaten.
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</p>
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<p>
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"And now I will have even more," he gloated. "Face it, Cousin. The war was lost long ago. A new order begins. You could be at my side. Mandrake is sick. I
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have seen him. Ravaged by his alchemy; riddled with poison. I could have it all. And the Redthorn sword would rule again."
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</p>
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<p>
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She raised her face to him, green eyes glittering with anger and betrayal.
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</p>
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<p>
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"I would rather die," she said, very softly. But now she knew he would not kill her. Not yet.
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</p>
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<p>
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"Oh, I don't think so," he said. "When the war is lost, peace follows. And it will be a different Temair. So, up with you. We have things to do and places
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to go. I know something Mandrake doesn't."
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</p>
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<p>
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Brodick bound her hands with a leather thong and put her knives in the saddle-bag. He picked up the Book of Ways, and sat beside her. He opened the book
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and waited patiently until the old script began to form on the next empty page.
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Read on, should heart be strong and true</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>False heart finds the road to rue</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>A treasure trail bold feet to follow</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>A hoard of gold, though wealth be hollow</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Left hand finds a heart's desire</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Right hand, pain and fear and fire.</em>
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</p>
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<p>
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He turned to her, eyes bright.
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</p>
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<p>
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"I knew it," he said. "Mandrake found his wealth in the barren lands. There were cities here of old, filled with gold. Before the war with the Fomorian
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Scree."
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</p>
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<p>
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He grinned. "I read the books. It was before the Salt Barrens were wasteland. People lived here, and they were very rich.
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</p>
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<p>
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She turned away.
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</p>
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<p>
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"You don't realise. I could have turned you over to Mandrake. That's what he wanted. But that's not going to happen. We don't need him when we can find our
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own wealth. Buy our own armies."
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</p>
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<p>
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He laughed aloud. "We could take Temair from under him."
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</p>
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<p>
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Corriwen said nothing. Brodick had betrayed her brother, and he had betrayed her. Now he was to betray his real master. She felt sick at the thought that
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he was her cousin.
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</p>
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<p>
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Brodick ignored her silence as he unrolled his bedding blanket and hitched her thongs to a stake driven into the ground. As the night wore on, he fell
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asleep, still smiling. She knew he would dream of wealth and power. She waited, still as a mouse, until he was sound asleep and then carefully drew out the
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little red knife that Jack had given to her. It had fascinated her how it could unfold into many blades. Very quickly she cut through the knot on the
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thongs and wriggled her hands free. Brodick had put her twin knives in the saddle-roll and she thought she should just get them and cut his throat while he
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slept.
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</p>
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<p>
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But something made her pause. The Book of Ways was lying on a flat stone where Brodick had left it. She looked up at the Corona and wondered what Jack and
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Kerry would do under the circumstances.
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</p>
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<p>
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The book flicked open, all by itself.
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</p>
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<p>
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Corriwen started back in surprise.
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</p>
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<p>
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Immediately the pages riffled in a whisper that sounded like a far-off voice and then it lay open. Her hand reached and lifted the book, drew it on to her
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knee. Under the starlight, the words appeared on the page and she focused on them. The first time Jack had shown her the old script, she could not
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understand the words, but as she concentrated on the page, something clicked in her mind and the meaning became suddenly clear.
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</p>
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<p>
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She read them slowly:
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Lead on, brave heart, be true and strong</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Keep a promise, right a wrong</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Left hand path for greed and gain</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>To lose the way, to search in vain.</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Pause for breath, ere journey's end.</em>
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</p>
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<p class="centered">
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<em>Rest a-while, re-find a friend</em>
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.
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</p>
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<p>
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Hope flared in her heart again.
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</p>
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<p>
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The verse was similar to the one Brodick had read gloatingly. But it was different. That message had been for him. This was for her alone. She would be mad
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to ignore what it said.
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</p>
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<p>
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It was giving her directions that were different from Brodick's.
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</p>
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<p>
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The Book of Ways was on <em>her</em> side. She knew it as surely as she knew that Jack was still alive.
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</p>
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<p>
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Very quickly she turned the thongs around her wrists again and lay down on her side. Sleep came slowly, but it came.
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</p>
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<p>
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In her dreams she saw Jack Flint and Kerry on the back of a great horse. They were galloping north.
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</p>
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<p>
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And someone was following them.
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</p>
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<hr/>
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<p>
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They tied Declan up and left him lying, still asleep, beside the embers.
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</p>
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<p>
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It was almost completely dark and they had some broth boiling on the flames when suddenly Jack started.
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</p>
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<p>
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"What's up," Kerry asked. Jack glanced beyond the fire to where Declan was hobbling the horses.
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</p>
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<p>
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"I remembered what it was," Jack whispered. "What I saw before I was clonked on the head."
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</p>
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<p>
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Kerry raised his eyebrows in question and Jack went on: "It was him. I remember seeing the empty sheath and then something hit me. It must have been him."
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</p>
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<p>
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"That's why he was so keen to come with us."
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</p>
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<p>
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"And he has the book. I felt it in his saddlebag."
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</p>
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<p>
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"So what do we do?" Kerry demanded. "We can't fight him."
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</p>
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<p>
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Declan came back and sat by the fire. He had said nothing yet about catching Jack fumbling in his bag. He took a whetstone and began to stroke it along his
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sword. The metal gleamed in the firelight.
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</p>
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<p>
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And an hour later, he was fast asleep. They waited another hour before Kerry made two loops of strong nylon line and then, moving silently Jack slipped one
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round Declan's throat and pulled tight. He woke instantly, but Kerry was ready and caught his wrist with the other line before he could reach his sword.
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</p>
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<p>
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Choking, Declan tried to pull the nylon away from his throat and as he did so, Kerry looped more line round his feet. In minutes they had him bound like a
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hog, struggling helplessly.
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</p>
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<p>
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Jack snatched the saddlebag and slung it over their mount.
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</p>
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<p>
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Then they were gone.
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</p>
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<hr/>
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<p>
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Corriwen was in front of Brodick on the horse, with the binding thongs looped around the saddle horn. He had placed her there, and she could reach neither
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her own knives in the saddle-roll, nor his in its sheath. But she could wait.
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</p>
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<p>
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The horse plodded on, following rocky gullies where water might once have flowed, long ago. Corriwen listened for signs of pursuit, hoping and praying that
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Jack and Kerry would find her soon, wishing she hadn't confronted Brodick until the odds were more even.
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</p>
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<p>
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Many miles down the trail, they were in a ravine where powdery sand trickled from bare rock walls. She kept her eyes ahead, alert for movement, but when it
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came, it surprised her.
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</p>
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<p>
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Behind her, Brodick was half asleep.
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</p>
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<p>
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A hundred yards ahead, the left side of the canyon wall began to shimmer, as if sunlight were catching tiny crystals on the stone. Corriwen bent to shade
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her eyes, not sure of what she had seen, and as she did, the strange shimmering stopped.
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</p>
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<p>
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But where she was sure there had been bare rock, another ravine opened on the left side, a fork in the path where there had been one trail seconds before.
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</p>
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|
<p>
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|
The message in the Book of Ways suddenly became clear, and using her knees, she edged the horse to the left and into the narrow gully.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"For better or worse," she told herself.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<hr/>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Five hours later, Jack and Kerry would have missed the fork entirely, but for Kerry's skill. He was leading the horse while Jack sat in the saddle and the
|
|
little Leprechaun clutched the mane tight.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Kerry paused, crouching over close to the ground, following the tracks that were already silting up as the fine sand drizzled down the valley sides.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"What's up?" Jack asked. He eased himself from the saddle and kneaded his stiff backside.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"They stop here," Kerry said, looking left and right. "And that's wrong surely. Unless that big horse can fly."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"I wish ours could," Jack replied. "I'm sore all over."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"So are my feet," Kerry countered. "My trainers are just about done in. And I bet you can't get Nikes here for love nor money."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He was about to say more when the cleft on the left path appeared, just a few feet ahead of them. The pattern of stones on either side had made it look
|
|
like solid rock, but as soon as Jack stepped forward, the gap was clear to see.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Mystery solved," Kerry said.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Maybe," Jack agreed. "But why would they take a side road? That doesn't look as if it goes anywhere."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
They followed the fork anyway, leading the horse through a space that was hardly wide enough to let it scrape past, until the gully began to widen.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Soon they came to an arch that at first looked carved by water, but as they approached it became clear that it had been built from solid blocks of stone,
|
|
weathered and patched with dry lichen. Some sort of script had been carved on it, but it was too worn to make out.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<hr/>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Beyond the narrow entrance, the old city was a labyrinth of ruins and crumbling walls. At the far end, an ancient castle on higher ground overlooked the
|
|
ruins.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"This is the place," Brodick said. "I knew it. The book was right."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"Yes," Corriwen thought, "But which verse?"
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Brodick bundled her down from the saddle and hitched her bonds to a bronze spike that might have had some function long ago.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"You stay here," Brodick said. "I'm going to make us rich."
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
"There will be no <em>us</em>," she replied, but Brodick had the same strange light in his eye that he'd had when he snatched the knife from her. He wasn't
|
|
even listening.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
She watched him work his way through the labyrinth towards the old castle, while above her, black birds wheeled on thermals. They might have been roaks,
|
|
but they were too far away for her to be sure.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
As soon as Brodick was out of sight, Corriwen loosened the cut thong and then crossed to where the horse was hobbled. In the saddle-roll, she found her own
|
|
knives in their sheaths and buckled them to her belt. She turned, staying low, about to follow Brodick when she stopped, went back to the horse and unslung
|
|
her own satchel.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
She drew out the gold-hilted knife that she had pulled from her brother's dead body. The blood on the blade was brown and dry, but the point was as sharp
|
|
as ever. She nodded to herself, biting on the grief that suddenly gripped her, clenched her fingers round the dagger's hilt and then silently set off into
|
|
the labyrinth.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<hr/>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Deep in the bowels of the castle it was cold and dank. Darkness shrouded Brodick as soon as he stepped through the gate. Above him an ancient portcullis
|
|
hung from rusting chains that seemed almost worn through.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
He ignored the mouldering skeletons that lay crumpled on the castle steps, and the ones that lay inside the great hall, sprawled on a worm-eaten table that
|
|
was now almost dust.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
A battle had been fought and lost here. The bones were old and white but he had no interest in the dead, only what they had left behind. He stepped over
|
|
bony hands that still held ancient swords, ribs pierced with rusted knives, not giving these old warriors any reverence at all. His mind was fixed on what
|
|
lay ahead.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
The footprints in the dust, old though they were, could still be seen. Somebody had been here before him, and he knew that it was Mandrake. He had been led
|
|
to this wealth and now Brodick was following in his footsteps.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
As he moved carefully in the gloom, he was thinking that he might not be following in Mandrake's footprints for long.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
Behind him, silent as a cat, Corriwen Redthorn followed the maze of tunnels beneath the great hall, eyes wide as they accustomed themselves to the dark,
|
|
listening intently for the slow footfall ahead of her and the slight sound of Brodick's breathing in this silent place.
|
|
</p>
|
|
<p>
|
|
And behind Corriwen Redthorn, moving just as silently, Jack Flint and Kerry followed.
|
|
</p>
|
|
</div>
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</div>
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</body>
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</html>
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