Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [153]
“Evandar!” In a last desperation Rhodry called again. “Evandar!”
On a wave of laughter, a berserk chortling to match Rhodry’s own, Evandar burst into the blue light, swooping and plunging through the air with a broadsword in one hand and an oval shield in the other. Rhodry heard Alshandra scream in rage and terror as the vast figure of the Guardian swept past them. Ahead, shimmering in the blue light, hung another mist gate. Without waiting for an order, Arzosah flapped hard and flew straight for it. Just as they passed through, Rhodry glanced back to see Alshandra fleeing the battle. She shot straight upward like a diver returning to the surface of a lake and disappeared through a crack in the silver sky.
With a vast convulsion of light that left him dizzy, Rhodry and the dragon burst out into sunlight, normal blessed sunlight and clean air. Below them lay the fallow fields just south of Cengarn, all green and silent in the golden light of a late afternoon. Rhodry wept in a quick burst of tears, quickly over.
“Turn back,” he called out. “You can land behind the battle and rest, and I’ll find a horse and ride into the fight.”
But by the time they returned, the battle was over. The Horsekin had retreated back into their protected camp, but the balance of numbers, once in their favor, had been very much tipped to the Deverry side.
When he heard Rhodry’s call, a wave of thought billowing through the etheric plane, Evandar was already close to Cengarn. In a burst of images, he sped forward, following the anguish in the calls, until he saw the city, black against the living auras of the men and horses round it, those bright-colored lights that had puzzled Rhodry earlier. He also saw Alshandra gaining on her prey as the exhausted dragon flapped desperately toward the south. With a howl of laughter, Evandar dropped down to hover between her and the dragon. At last, he thought. At last, I have her!
Shrieking, Alshandra leapt up, bursting through the semblance of sky that marked the boundary between the planes. For a brief moment, Evandar stood stunned, his useless sword in his hand; then he dropped the weapons and leapt after. He broke through the silver and found himself back in the Lands, hovering in midair in the pale sunlight. Slowly, he turned in a circle, saw at last the tiny form of the nighthawk, flying off toward the horizon. He started to transform, then hesitated, still in his elven shape. He’d been assuming, he realized, that she would stand and fight once he caught up with her. Apparently, she was going to keep running from him instead.
“You’re never going to catch her,” he said aloud. “If you fly after her up here, she’ll drop back down to the blue light. If you chase her there, she’ll pop up somewhere else, always working harm wherever she goes. This is a pretty little nastiness, I must say.”
Evandar settled back to the green hillcrest. He knew that he needed to think and find some scheme, but there was the question of Time. It was moving, he supposed, back in the world of men. Dallandra always talked about Time moving, anyway, either fast or slow, dragging or flying, depending upon what she might be doing at the moment. Although he was never quite sure what she meant by such talk, he did know that events had a way of getting done with and situations had a way of changing, down in that world, whether you wanted them to or not. He had best move fast. If he could. Thinking of Dallandra made him worry, too. Where had she been during that battle? He decided that he’d best go and see.
When Alshandra’s dweomer had transported Rhodry and Arzosah onto the etheric plane, Dallandra had seen it happen, but she’d been in no position to come to his aid. At the battle’s start, Jill had rushed to the women’s hall to stand guard over Carra, leaving Dallandra to take her turn watching over the town. Dallandra hurried up to the roof of the main broch and looked out, making sure that the Horsekin weren’t attacking the walls—no one had been able