Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [106]
Leifander, oblivious to Goldheart's antics, flew steadily on to the east. If Larajin turned and flew after Goldheart, would he follow? The battle with the spiders had taught them that their strength lay in keeping together, but there was no guarantee he wouldn't ignore the tressym and continue the search for Rylith on his own.
Larajin did the only thing she could-she prayed silently, since her tressym vocal chords could not articulate words. She begged the goddess to give her the power of human speech, so she could talk to Leifander. She knew he could understand language, even in crow form. If she could just-
There. A familiar red glow started at the tips of her whiskers and traveled down them like a flame along a wick. Her lips and tongue were tingling, too. She opened her mouth to call out to Leifander, but what burst forth was the caw of a crow.
Leifander understood it, however. Wheeling up and over in a loop, he flew back to her.
"What?" he cawed back. "What's wrong?"
Larajin jerked her head in the direction of the rapidly departing tressym.
"It's Goldheart. She's spotted something and wants us to follow her."
Larajin started a wide turn toward the south, and Leifander did a loop that placed him beside her, flying in the same direction-for the moment.
"She's probably hunting," Leifander said. "We don't have time for games of cat and mouse."
"I don't think so," Larajin replied. "She deliberately got my attention before turning south. She wants us to follow. I've learned to trust her intuition. Goldheart is blessed by the goddess. Hanali Celanil herself may be guiding her."
Leifander gave a rattling croak that to Larajin's ears was clearly a grumble of frustration.
"All right," he said after a moment. "Let's see what it is."
Goldheart, seeing that Larajin and Leifander were at last following, allowed them to catch up to her. As they
did, Larajin switched to the tressym's language, meowing a question.
Goldheart's answer was cryptic. "He comes," she yowled back in an excited voice.
The tressym sped up. Unable to further question the creature, Larajin translated for Leifander, who jerked his wings in a shrug.
Goldheart led them south, then turned east to cross Rauthauvyr's Road. Even in the gloom of dusk, Larajin could see that it was choked with the aftermath of war. Half a dozen wagons of peculiar construction had obviously fallen victim to an elf ambush. They were stopped at odd angles along the road with horses lying dead in their traces. Dozens of bodies-the wagon drivers and the archers who must have been escorting them-lay scattered around the wagons and on the road itself. Larajin grimaced, glad she wasn't flying low enough to see their terrible wounds.
The only sign of those who had attacked the caravan was a creature that hung, dead, in the broken branches of a tree next to the road. Its body was a mix of eagle and lion, and there was a saddle on its back, though no rider was to be seen. Leifander, when he saw it, gave a strangled caw and swooped down for a closer look.
Goldheart continued to the south, not even glancing at the carnage below. It seemed she had another objective in mind. Larajin hoped it wasn't far. Already she could feel the looseness of limb that was the first warning of her change back to human form. Soon, she would have to land and rest and pray to renew her spell.
She saw Goldheart descend toward the treetops as if she had spotted something. Larajin glanced over her shoulder, and saw to her relief that Leifander was still following-he hadn't landed at the caravan. She angled toward the trees to the spot where Goldheart had landed. As she did, she heard the thudding of hooves