Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [88]
Eliza shivered again. I offered to go back to the car for her wrap, but Scylla stopped me.
“Look!” she said softly, and pointed.
A figure was moving toward us, on our side of the invisible wall. It did not walk, but glided over the ground. It was alone and was, by its dress, a woman. Eliza gasped and clasped her hands.
“Mother!” she whispered.
The figure was Gwendolyn, coming toward us, drifting over the ground. I recalled then that she was one of the magi, that she could float where the mundane were forced to walk. But I also recalled that I had not once seen her use her magic when we were at her home. Perhaps that was out of respect for Joram.
Gwen floated toward us, her gaze focused lovingly on her daughter.
“Mother?” Eliza repeated, perplexed, hopeful, afraid.
Gwendolyn dropped gracefully to the ground and held out her arms. “My child,” she said in choked tones. “How frightened you must have been!”
Eliza held back. “Mother, why are you here? Did you escape them? Where is Papa?”
Gwendolyn took a step toward her daughter. “Are you all right, love?” Reaching out, she took one of Eliza’s hands.
Eliza flinched, but then, seeing her mother’s worried, loving face so near, she seemed to melt.
“I’m fine, Mother. Only so worried about you and Papa! I heard he was hurt. How is he?”
“Eliza, have you brought the Darksword?” Gwendolyn asked, smoothing her daughter’s black curls.
“Yes,” said Eliza. “But Papa! Is he well? And Father Saryon? Is he all right?”
“Of course, child. I would not have come to you otherwise,” Gwendolyn replied, with a reassuring smile. “Your father is angry with you for taking the Darksword, but if you return it, he will forgive you.”
“Mother, I’m frightened for Papa. I saw the blood! And they killed the sheep. All the sheep are dead, Mother!”
“You know how hot-tempered your father is.” Gwen sighed. “He was caught off guard when the Technomancers entered our house. Their leader admits that they acted rashly and he has apologized. Your father suffered a slight injury. Nothing serious. His greatest hurt lies with you, Eliza. He believes you have betrayed him!”
“I didn’t mean to betray him,” Eliza said, her voice quavering. “I thought if I gave them the sword, they would go away and leave us alone and we could be happy again! That’s all I meant to do.”
“I understand, daughter, and so will your father. Come and tell him this yourself. My pet!” Gwendolyn extended her hand. “We have so little time! Give me the Darksword and our family will be reunited.”
I looked at Scylla, wondering if she would remind Eliza of the admonition to see for herself that the hostages were alive and well. Not that I didn’t trust Gwendolyn, but the thought came to me that perhaps she was acting under duress.
Eliza gave a deep sigh, as if she were throwing off a heavy burden. “Yes, Mother. I will give you the Darksword.”
Turning, she walked back to the car. Gwendolyn remained standing near the wall. Her fond gaze never left her daughter.
I thought Scylla would make some protest, but she kept silent. It was Eliza’s decision to make, after all.
Returning to the car, she opened the back door and bent down to pick up the sword. I think Mosiah tried arguing with her, but—if so—their conversation was brief. Eliza slammed the door irritably and started to walk back to us. She carried with her the Darksword, both hands clasped around the hilt, the sword’s blade pointed down.
Mosiah climbed out of the car, following after her, moving swiftly, silently.
Eliza had her back turned to him. She was facing her mother. She did not see him or hear him and Gwendolyn had eyes only for her daughter. Mosiah, in his black robes, was difficult to distinguish in the half-light. I saw him because I had been expecting him to do something like this. I had no doubt at all in my mind that he had deceived us, that he was going to try to take the Darksword by force. Scylla saw him, but she only stood, watching, that same slight smile on her lips.
Well,