Crown of Stars (Crown of Stars #7)

Anna had mended that rip. That was her stitching.

“This is very strange,” said Liath. “How came these seven dead men here? I am sure as I heard the tale that these barrows were explored after the disappearance of Lord Berthold, and no remains found. These poor fellows must have crawled in here seeking shelter in recent months, and been lost.”

“No,” whispered Anna.

Liath turned to look at her. By torchlight, she did not look so very fearsome. The darkness crowding in on all sides made her appear more vulnerable. She was not much older than Anna herself, not truly. She had also traveled a long way, and faced terrible dangers.

“Who do you think they are?”

Anna wiped her cheeks, but the tears kept flowing. She had mended that tabard. She knew her own stitches.

“Those five,” she said hoarsely, “they must be as you say. They must be Lord Berthold’s retainers, the five he left behind. I told you—” She drew breath, caught her courage, and went on. After all, she had always known the truth in her heart. Now she must accept it. “I told you we had to run. That the caverns were collapsing around us.”

“Indeed, you did,” said Liath with a slight frown. “Then who are these two others?”

She had not Prince Sanglant’s talent for names and faces; he would have known at once; he would not have had to ask. And after all this, Anna could not say their names aloud, although they resonated in her heart.

Thiemo and Matto.

Speechless, she covered her face with her hands.

4

AFTER she had crawled back out of the mound, and wiped off her clothing, Liath waited beside Sharp Edge as the tracker continued her search of the clearing. Poor Anna was huddled on the ground in a stupor, neither crying nor speaking. It was as if she had been struck on the head and gone mute.

“There is some vast labyrinth that connects the whole,” she said to Sharp Edge. “Some of it is truly underground, hewn out of the rock, but another part must be the aetherical tributaries, shifting in their channels. We placed Blessing and her companions in a mound far to the east—hoping to save her life, which we did! Lord Berthold and his companions crawled into the mounds above Hersford Monastery. And if Anna’s account is correct, and I believe it is, then a group comprised of two from Hersford and five from the east escaped from the cataclysm at Verna, in the Alfar Mountains. How can this be?”

“It must be possible to map these channels,” said Sharp Edge. “I’d like to do that!”

Liath shook her head, smiling slightly. Sharp Edge had a strong personality, a little hard to take, but her eagerness was like good wine: it made you want to drink more.

“A map,” said Zuangua, “would allow war parties to strike more effectively.” He was pale, hurting, but unbowed.

A distant “halloo” drew his attention. The female tracker stood at the northern edge of the clearing beside a narrow track that was, in truth, scarcely more than a parting of branches.

“She’s found some scent,” said Zuangua. “Liat’dano, go with Tarangi. Take a pair to follow her, but do not confront our enemy without me, if that’s where the scent leads you. I’ll send a bundle with Calta, on that big path, to see what they find. The rest will remain here with me.”

Liath paused beside Anna, but the poor girl was so drawn into herself that she did not even respond to a murmured question. With a shrug, she hurried after the female tracker, already lost among the trees. Buzzard Mask and Falcon Mask stalked behind, eyes wide as they stared around at this alien land. To her surprise, she had not taken more than a hundred steps when she followed Tarangi out of the trees onto a rocky outcrop. A spring leaked from a defile to make a small pool within the rocks. The ridgeline fell away before them in a jumble of cliffs and terraces. Set back against tree and rock, sheltered by the highest thrust of the ridge, a tiny hut stood in isolation. Moss ran riot on the thatched roof. The walls gleamed as though they were freshly whitewashed.

Tarangi had risen to both feet, brushing dirt and bits of grass and leaf from her bare chest.

“Nothing,” she said to Liath. “The one we seek did not come here. There is an old magic protecting this place. Can’t you smell it? It is powerful, but not angry. It is not against us, but it will reveal no secrets. I will not go in the hut.”

“Is it a bad place? Has it a bad heart?”

“‘Bad’? No. It is peaceful but very strong. Like lightning, it is from beyond this Earth. I will not go there.” She retreated into the trees and crouched in the shade to wait for them.