The Riddle - Alison Croggon [92]
They would be less strong that way, Maerad knew.
Try once more, said Maerad desperately, as Cadvan sent a bolt of fire straight into the frost creature’s eyes, and it fell back into the void beyond the road, boiling like a storm cloud and roaring with fury.
All right. Now.
This time, Maerad was so anxious for their melding that she knocked Cadvan over. He staggered to his feet, gasping, and Maerad stared at him in bafflement: why could they not meld?
Maerad, it’s like you’re attacking me, said Cadvan. If you do that again, you’ll destroy me. We shall have to fight separately. We need to make semblances to confuse it. They are not clever, these creatures.
Maerad shook her head in confusion, but had no time to think, for the iridugul had recovered itself and was now raining blows upon them in a rage. Cadvan was concentrating on keeping his shield intact, and simultaneously working a glimmerspell, a semblance of himself and Darsor, which he could leave behind him for the iridugul to attack.
Maerad cleared her mind, trying to ignore the furious hammerings of the iridugul. First she made another shield that enclosed Cadvan’s, reinforcing it, and then she began to work a glimmerspell. To make even such an easy charm under such attack was difficult, but she concentrated grimly. I am Maerad of Pellinor, Elednor Edil-Amarandh na, she said fiercely to herself; why am I being so stupid?
Maerad’s semblance took a little longer than Cadvan’s, but after what seemed like an eternity, they had created shining replicas of themselves. Cadvan extinguished his magelight and took Darsor’s reins. They waited, choosing their time, before they slipped out of the shield of White Fire and stumbled along the base of the cliff, leaving the iridugul to attack their empty images. The hail pelted into them as soon as they left the protection of the light, but Maerad put her head down and ran with Cadvan as fast as she could, hugging the wall, praying the iridugul was too enraged to notice the tiny figures scrambling along the mountainside like furtive mice. It was now nearly dark.
They had almost reached a hairpin bend in the road, when disaster struck. At the bend was a sheer precipice guarded only by a low stone wall and one of the standing stones, which rose like a black, ominous finger in the seething grayness around them. As they neared it, Maerad disbelievingly watched the standing stone rise up in the air: and suddenly there materialized in front of them not one, but two iriduguls, one holding the standing stone over its head as a weapon.
Cadvan stopped dead, instantly throwing a shield around them, and mounted Darsor, who was foamed with sweat. Maerad looked back desperately; she could see the first iridugul still attacking their semblances, its fury increasing as its club seemed to pass through them without hurt. Three!
Maerad, we’re going to have to blast them and run, Cadvan said into her mind. And then he noticed, for the first time, that Imi had gone. Where’s Imi?
She ran off. . . .
Cadvan said nothing, but reached down and pulled her into the saddle behind him. Then, without even pausing for thought, they both sent out bolts of White Fire, aiming for the iriduguls’ eyes, and Cadvan urged on Darsor, who leaped forward in a surge of muscle, making for the bend in the road. Maerad heard the screams of the iridugul, an unbearable noise like the tortured wrenching of stone, and just hung on as Darsor plunged forward. The great horse spun himself around the sharp bend, making Maerad’s neck crack with the violence of the turn, and tore on down the road into the gale, bolting for his life.
Maerad heard the splintering of rock as the standing stone crashed into the road at their heels, and somehow Darsor sped up, his hooves skidding on the icy stones. Then suddenly an iridugul was before them, bringing down a fist like a massive rock on the cliff above them, and there was a rumbling as if the whole side of the mountain was collapsing. Maerad looked