The Magic of Recluce - L. E. Modesitt [169]
My arms felt like water, and I let them drop.
My head was throbbing, and splitting, and I let it, but I struggled, fighting to reflect that fearful pattern, realizing that I might well end in that white prison demonstrated by Justen if I did not succeed.
My eyes twitched against closed lids.
My breath panted as though I had run uphill for kays.
And I held the mirror pattern against the fountain.
Clunk.
The blurriness was gone from the blackness before my unseeing eyes, and my legs remained weak, but did not tremble. My head ached—but both patterns were gone.
Only the splash of water remained.
“…help…”
“…Tallian…”
I began to walk toward the other courtyard and the gates, understanding that there would indeed be hell to pay, and before too long, either.
“…wizardry!”
“Tallian says to check around the fountain!”
Two guards ran past me toward the fountain courtyard I had left, one of them nearly hitting me as I dodged against the wall.
In all the rushing, I just waited until the gates opened. Then I walked to the market square area and reappeared out of the shadows, not that anyone was watching, with the half-dozen horsemen speeding from the palace.
I did not quite run to Destrin’s, belatedly realizing what could well happen. But I did burst in the door.
“Bostric.”
“What…?” One look at me and his face was probably as pale as mine felt.
“How fast can you and Deirdre get to Brettel’s?”
The most-recent journeyman in Fenard gulped.
“Never mind. Just get Deirdre down here. All hell is about to break loose.”
“But…”
“Do it.” I gathered my staff and pack, the book, and the small strongbox with Deirdre’s dowry, before hurrying out to the stable to saddle Gairloch. He didn’t even whinny.
When I got back into the shop, Bostric and Deirdre each carried a small sack.
Deirdre looked at me. “Papa…he won’t leave…”
I dashed upstairs.
Destrin sat in his armchair. His eyes were clear.
“We need to leave, Destrin.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You’re right, Lerris—wizard, or whatever you are—but I’m not strong enough to keep up with you young people. You can care for my Deirdre. I can’t, and I’ll slow you down. And I’m almost dead anyway…would have died seasons ago without you.”
“We can take you.”
“I’ll fight you, young wizard.” He smiled a yellow-toothed grin.
I could tell he would. “Good-bye, then, Destrin. I won’t be back.”
“I know. Take care for my Deirdre.”
There wasn’t much else to say. I reached down and hugged the cranky old man, but my steps were heavy down the stairs.
“You…couldn’t…”
I looked at Deirdre. “He’ll fight to stay in his house. Trying to take him would kill him.”
She nodded, but the corners of her eyes were wet. Then she ran upstairs again.
I pursed my lips, wondering how soon the soldiers would reach us.
“What are we doing, Lerris?”
“Going to Brettel’s.”
It seemed like forever before Deirdre came down, and her eyes looked back up the stairs. “He…said…he’d scream and yell…if I didn’t go…”
Destrin would be cranky to his last breath.
Then I felt like hitting my head with my hand. I tiptoed back up the stairs. With Destrin it was easier than with the guards. Almost before I could react, he was asleep.
He weighed little enough, even for me.
Deirdre’s eyes widened as I carried him down.
“He’s just asleep.”
I put Deirdre on Gairloch, just so she could hold the sleeping Destrin, and we started out, my feelings extended as far as I could.
I didn’t like what I was about to do, but, again, there wasn’t any choice.
“Bostric? Deirdre?”
They looked at me. “I’ll be right with you, but you may not be able to see me. If the guards see me, they might…get upset…” I finished lamely. What I said might be true, but I didn’t know. They might be more than upset to see me, but with Antonin off fighting the autarch, I wasn’t sure if anyone had actually traced back how the chairs had come to the sub-prefect, or if anyone really cared.
I just couldn’t chance it.
“If you say so, wizardly one,” quipped Bostric.
Deirdre looked at me. “Whatever you say.”
Bostric frowned, but