The Seeker - Isobelle Carmody [167]
We had been walking less than an hour when Darga stopped abruptly, his fur bristling. “Funaga. Just ahead,” he sent.
I told the others to wait and limped through the trees. Catching sight of a low wall, I had to fight back tears of relief. This was the last obstacle between us and Obernewtyn.
I peered over the wall warily.
Three or four armsmen stood talking near the diggings. The yellow sky cast an ivory light on their faces, turning their flesh a sickly, sallow hue.
On the other side of the clearing, nearest the gate, an armsman was deep in an argument with a white-robed Druid acolyte. The acolyte looked angry. A few steps away stood another armsman, leaning on his spear and yawning. There was a lot more open space than I remembered from Matthew’s vision and no way of passing over it unnoticed without a diversion.
Jik brought Dragon up to the fence just as a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Dragon shuddered from head to toe, pointing at the sky and gibbering fearfully. I patted her arm, realizing she was afraid of the storm. That was all we needed.
I turned to Darga, who was looking up and sniffing the wind.
“We’ll have to go straightaway. Dragon’s frightened of the storm, and she might not be able to make a vision if she gets any more agitated.”
As if to underline my words, lightning flashed directly overhead, and Dragon cowered to the ground, hands over her ears. I had a sudden impression that time was folding back on itself. My general sense of apprehension had increased to the point where it bordered on premonition, but I knew the suppression of pain could confuse the other senses. And Dragon’s growing agitation made it imperative we move at once.
I stroked her face gently, and slowly she relaxed. It took some time to make her understand what was needed, but in the end she nodded.
A moment later, the man leaning on his spear gave a muffled shout, and another man actually screamed with such terror that my hair stood on end. Then chaos broke out across the compound. For a moment, there was a hail of cries and panicked shouts. Peering through a crack in the fence, I could see no sign of any apparition and wondered what Dragon had conjured up. I watched until the clearing was deserted, then hissed at the others to run.
Lightning flashed as we thrust aside the barrier of stakes, but no one cried out. I saw a lone man running frantically for the huts; everyone else was already inside.
Lightning flashed with lurid brilliance, and for a second, our shadows ran before us, elongated and sharp edged, merging with the tree line just before us.
We had reached the White Valley!
Thunder crashed again, and this time the air vibrated with its force.
As soon as we reached the trees, I urged the others to run ahead and slowed to a limping walk. There was no more need to run, and I did not want to aggravate the suppression any further. Preoccupied, I failed to notice a rock in the grass and tripped, sprawling on the ground. Hearing my involuntary cry, Dragon turned as if to help me. Then she froze.
I looked up at her, puzzled, and my heart jerked with sickening force. Her face was a grotesque mask of terror. She began to shriek hysterically. I looked over my shoulder to see what she had seen.
Less than fifty spans away ran a wall of fire, and there was no mistaking the greenish tint of the flames or the blue crackle in the air. I had seen it before—the miscolored sky, the dull, bleared light—but I had not recognized it.
A firestorm, and we were out in the open!
22
“GET UP AND run, girl, unless you want to die!” cried a voice.
Wrenched violently to my feet, I found myself half dragged, half carried along by a tall, brown-faced youth. Dragon ran ahead of us, wild with terror.
“That way. There are caves,” he shouted, pointing. Dragon swerved the way he indicated, disappearing into the trees. The acrid smoke billowed around us, and dimly, I heard the muffled crash of thunder in