Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [80]
Larajin mulled that over. "Can you describe the stones on the hill?" she asked.
Goldheart thought a moment, then scratched at the ground with a paw, leaving a half-circle mark. They formed a bent line, like this."
"How many stones?"
"Many."
Larajin held up one hand, fingers splayed. This many?" "More."
She laid the dagger down, and held up her other hand. This many?"
Goldheart studied her hands as the dagger's light waned. "Perhaps."
Larajin sat thinking as the dagger's light gradually went out. The moonlight was bright enough that she could still see the tressym clearly. Thanks to the elf blood
*
that flowed in her veins, she could even see the colors of her wings.
To get to this hill, how would you travel?" she asked. "What would you see below as you flew?"
Goldheart thought a moment. The place with the walls and piled-up trees, the edge of the forest, a river… then the hill."
Larajin fell silent, considering this information. She had spent many long hours in the library at Stormweather Towers, reading every book she could find that described the history and geography of ancient Cormanthor, but none of the information she'd gleaned on the former elven kingdom mentioned a hill like the one Goldheart had just described.
V Larajin did remember a map that showed the river Goldheart was probably talking about. It was called the Glaemril. It was reputed to be easy to cross. With Gold-heart scouting from above and giving directions, Larajin could make her way to the hill where Leifander had camped, but she couldn't ride as fast as the tressym could fly-especially through thick forest. By the time she reached the hill, Leifander would probably be long gone.
The alternative was, of course, to have Goldheart return alone to the hill as soon as she was rested, and continue to follow Leifander, but that would leave Larajin blundering around in the forest on her own, searching in vain for a hill that might not even be visible from within the trees.
Remembering the dream she'd just awakened from, Larajin wished she had wings to fly-or that there was someone to carry her through the skies. If only the avariel elf still had her…
A thought occurred to her then. Had the goddesses been trying to tell her something? Was it they who placed that dream in her mind?
If so, Larajin could see little use in it. Kith's wings were gone. She wasn't about to fly anywhere.
Goldheart rubbed against her, reminding Larajin of her presence. Larajin looked down at the tressym, remembering how Goldheart had looked when Larajin had found her in the Hunting Garden. Goldheart's wing had been broken and trailing behind her, feathers bedraggled and torn. Larajin had healed the wing, using the goddess's blessing to straighten bone, smooth scar tissue, and mend torn flesh and feather. When she'd finished, the wing was as good as new. Feathers that had been broken far short of their tips were whole again.
She shouldn't have been able to do that. According to the clerics in Sune's temple, it took many long years of prayer and study to develop the skills needed to use magic to regrow a body part, even something as small as a finger-or a feather.
Yet Larajin had done it. How?
As Larajin crouched, stroking Goldheart's silky fur with her free hand, she pondered. As recently as a few days before, she had managed what also should have been an impossible spell. With just the briefest bit of instruction from Rylith, she'd instantly transported herself over many miles, to a place of refuge.
Again, she had no idea how.
She sat, staring at the heart-shaped locket that hung from her wrist. After a long moment, she realized the answer. Normally, when she cast a spell, it was with the blessing of one goddess or the other. The spell was accompanied either by a red glow or by the scent of Hanali's Heart, but both times when she had cast a spell that should have been well beyond her, both the aura and the scent had manifested at once. Both goddesses had bestowed their blessings upon Larajin in the same instant, enhancing her power to cast spells.