Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [120]
"This feather," she said.
Leifander and Doriantha stared at her blankly, but on Rylith's face Larajin saw the dawning of a smile. Quickly, Larajin began to speak.
** ** *
Larajin completed her prayer and held up the tressym feather. Small and downy, it was perhaps the most unusual "weapon" of war ever wielded. Tiny though it might be, it vibrated with magical power. Its color had deepened to a vivid crimson that almost seemed to glow in the darkness, and the scent of Hanali's Heart wafted from it as though it had been soaked in perfume.
"It's ready," she told Doriantha. "Now it's time for you to kiss it."
Doriantha hesitated, her lip curling, then leaned forward. She gave the feather the briefest of kisses, and stared skeptically at it.
"Are you sure this will work? Isn't the enchantment on it too obvious?"
"Only up close," Larajin said. "It'll be Leifander's job to
blow the feather up against Maalthiir in such a way that he doesn't see it coming until it's too late."
Overhead, a thickly leafed duskwood tree swayed in the wind, throwing a patter of shadows across the moonlit forest floor. The breeze-cool and refreshing, and carrying rich woodland scents-had been summoned by Leifander. He sat cross-legged on a mossy boulder, eyes closed and arms extended. His hands drifted in lazy circles, fanning the breeze that fluttered the glossy black feathers in the end of his braid.
Rylith, standing next to him, peered intently into her amber. "I see him," she said softly. "Maalthiir is at the center of a group of soldiers. He has just passed through the northern gate and is walking in the direction of the manor house."
Larajin nodded. "We'd better hurry. Once he's indoors, it will be more difficult."
She strode to where Leifander sat and held the feather up in front of him. "Ready?" she asked.
He drew a deep breath, opened his eyes, then nodded. Larajin let go of the feather, which started to drift to the ground. Leifander exhaled. Caught by his breath, the feather at first tumbled through the air, then seemed to find its bearings. It floated away through the forest, weaving its way through the trees.
"Quickly," Larajin told Rylith. "The amber." Then, to Doriantha, "Go now. The feather will reach him before you do."
As Doriantha slipped away into the night, the druid raised the fist-sized chunk of amber so Leifander could peer into it. The image inside, which a moment ago had shown a group of Red Plumes striding up Rauthauvyr's Road, suddenly shifted. Something rushed into view from a distant point, deep within the amber's yellow depths. It drew close enough for Larajin to recognize it as the tressym feather-and it was gone.
"What's happened?" Larajin asked, alarmed.
"Watch," Rylith said.
Larajin did, and saw that the image inside the amber had changed yet again. Instead of the view being fixed at a single point, like a watcher looking down from above, the objects inside the amber seemed to lunge wildly past while the viewpoint constantly changed. A tree appeared, loomed close for a moment, then was gone. A clump of ferns raced up from below-then tumbled away as the view soared up toward the sky like a bird. The angle shifted wildly to avoid a tree branch that suddenly came into view, then a level course once more.
Watching, Larajin realized that the amber was showing the world from the perspective of the feather. Blown by the breeze, tumbling this way and that, it floated out of the forest and into a clearing, then drifted above an expanse of trampled earth that Larajin recognized as Rauthauvyr's Road. A palisaded wall loomed ahead- and a moving carriage, the passage of which sent the feather spiraling-and the open gates approached, and passed by.
Dizzy, Larajin had to look away for a moment to clear her head. She watched Leifander instead, marveling at his control. He was drawing air in through his nostrils and blowing it out through pursed hps in a constant stream, like a trained musician. Eyes locked on the amber, he