Pool of Twilight - James M. Ward [87]
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"We're coming down too fast!" Kern shouted.
"I know, I know!" Listle shouted back in annoyance as the flying carpet plunged toward the treetops. "The updrafts are unpredictable this close to the mountains."
It had taken only two days to cover the distance from the ruins of the red tower to the southern edge of the Dragonspine Mountains. But it looked to Kern as if their flying carpet days were about to come to an abrupt and violent end.
The carpet caught a vortex of cold air, spinning wildly. Kern would have gone sailing off into the blue had it not been for the strong grip Miltiades had on his belt. An eagle wheeled past with a startled expression.
"Listle, I see a meadow not far ahead," the skeletal paladin said calmly.
The elf nodded. "I'm aiming for it."
The wind whipped Kern's hair wildly about.
"Here we go!" Listle cried, pulling on the pair of tassels that helped her steer the carpet.
Kern tightened his grip on the golden fringe. The tree tops flew by mere inches below. He could see the meadow now, perhaps a quarter mile ahead.
"We're not going to make it!" he yelled over the roar of the wind.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Listle snapped. She concentrated on keeping the magic carpet steady. Just a little farther…
Suddenly a dead tree loomed before them, stretching its gnarled limbs higher than the surrounding foliage. Listle jerked hard on the tassels. There was a loud sound of rending cloth as a sharp branch punched through the fabric.
"The carpet's unraveling!" Kern shouted as they plummeted toward the clearing.
Sure enough, a thread from one end of the carpet had caught on the dead tree, and now the magical silk was unwinding behind them like a skein of yarn. The three had to crowd closer as the surface area of the flying carpet rapidly dwindled.
Listle yanked even harder on the golden tassels. The carpet managed to stay aloft for only a few more seconds. Then the last of the thread ran out.
Kern, Listle, and Miltiades fell through the air…
… and landed a half-second later on soft, dry, sweet-smelling grass.
Confused, Kern sat up, wondering why he hadn't been knocked dead by the fall. A glistening thread of silk settled slowly to the treetops, its end draped down over a dazed-looking Listle.
"The carpet managed to bear our weight until we were only a few feet above the ground," Miltiades offered in answer to their bewildered looks.
Listle sighed as she picked up one end of the silken thread. "I think this is it for the magic carpet," she said glumly. "Unless knitting also happens to be one of a paladin's special skills."
"I doubt it," Kern said with disdain.
The three gathered their scattered possessions. With a few magical words, Miltiades restored their three horses to their natural form. Kern's palfrey and Listle's gray pranced and snorted excitedly, apparently no worse the wear for having been miniaturized. Eritophenes, of course, was quite used to the experience.
They rode across the dun-colored meadow toward the snow-topped mountains. Now that they were here, Kern wondered how they would ever find Evaine. He and Listle discussed their options. Daile had said the scene revealed by Miltiades' communication gem lay close to the center of the mountains, so that gave them a general direction. Once they were in the actual vicinity, Listle thought she could whip up some spells to help them locate the sorceress.
Throughout this discussion, Miltiades had been quiet, but now the undead paladin spoke up.
"We will find her," he said confidently. "I will know when she is near."
However, just how he would know, he did not say. Listle and Kern exchanged a curious glance.
The sun was sinking toward the western horizon when they reached the forest that blanketed the lower slopes. Deciding it would be best to camp among the shelter of the trees, they decided to press on a bit farther. They guided their mounts down a winding trail, past silent stands of fir and ghost-pale aspen.
They had not gone far when sharp, ringing