Curse of the Shadowmage - Mark Anthony [82]
"There," Caledan said in grim satisfaction, releasing the Shadowstar. "The shadevari won't be able to distinguish my trail from any of those shadowserpents. That should keep them guessing which way I've gone, at least for a little while."
Mista gave an impressed whinny.
"Why, thank you." Caledan patted her neck fondly. Slowly his eyes rose toward the far-off horizon.
"All right, my friend," he whispered. "Let's go."
*****
Concealed inside a heavy cloak, K'shar watched the crimson tent from a distance. At last the half-elf's patience was rewarded. The tent's entrance flap parted a few scant inches, and he caught a glimpse of a face peering out. After a moment, the face vanished. However, ths glimpse had been more than enough for his sharp golden eyes. He knew the watcher in the tent from the description given by a soldier he had interrogated in Triel. It was one of Al'maren's companions, the thief Jewel. His quarry must still be in Soubar. Anticipation boiled in K'shar's veins. The chase was nearly over. For a time, in the tangled depths of the Reaching Woids, he had feared that the unthinkable had happened, that he had lost his prey. The trail had led to a ruined city where he had seen evidence of a battle with some sort of doglike creatures. The signs indicated that the companions had crossed the River Reaching, but by what means K'shar could not discern. For two days he searched for a way across the roiling river and found none. At last he was forced to give up and return to the Dusk Road. Just as he was growing concerned that his quarry had escaped him, he picked up the trail once again in Triel. Running night and day, he had journeyed swiftly to Soubar. Now it appeared that he had caught up wit them at last.
"You are a worthy opponent, Harper Al'maren," he murmured, baring his slightly pointed teeth in a feral smile. "But no one can elude me forever." Soundlessly, he moved to the entrance of the crimson tent and slipped within. His eyes adjusted instantly to the dim interior. But the tent was empty. Alarm flared in his mind. Something was wrong…
Too late he realized it was a trap. There was a hissing sound as the floor dropped from beneath him, and he fell through a series of steel hoops to land upright. Then the metal hoops tightened forcefully around his body, clamping his arms to his sides and immobilizing him. From behind, a hand reached out and pressed an acrid-smelling cloth over his mouth and nose. Reflexively, he inhaled.
You fool, Kshar! he chastised himself. You have grown lazy and thoughtless in your arrogance. Never did you consider that Al'maren might figure out you were following her. Never did you consider that she might lay a trap…
Quickly, the pungent vapors from the cloth did their work, and K'shar sank into unconsciousness.
After a time, he woke to the sound of voices.
For a moment he listened, eyes closed. The voices were far-off, so faint that no human ear could possibly hear them. Fortunately, K'shar's ears were more than merely human.
"Now that we have him, what do we do with him?" a smoky, feminine voice said. That could only be the thief, Jewel.
"Well, how should I know?" a bubbling male voice replied. K'shar guessed that one belonged to the corpulent crime lord, Cormik.
"I thought you were the one who was always full of ideas," Jewel said peevishly.
"Even the best of us have our off days," Cormik whined. "I'd rather not win the undying enmity of the Harpers killing their best Hunter. However, we have to make certain K'shar doesn't follow the others into the High Moor. They've got only a day's jump on him, and they…"
K'shar's amber eyes flashed open. He did not bother listening to the rest of Cormik's words. There was no need. Al'maren was journeying to the High Moor, only single day ahead of him. That was all he needed to know.
Now there was simply the small matter of escaping. He was in an underground chamber, he guessed by the chill, musty air.