First Rider's Call

Odd behavior for an apparition, she thought. Not that I’d know . . .

As Lil approached the figure, warmth rippled outward from her brooch. Surprised, she touched it, and it seemed to her the apparition grew sharper in her vision. She emanated a silver-green sheen, and wore her hair in a single braid down her back. Most astonishing of all, she wore a Rider brooch.

“Who are you?” Lil demanded. “Are you a demon spirit sent to haunt me?”

The apparition spoke, though Lil could not hear the words. If this one had been in life a Green Rider, Lil did not remember her, and that would be impossible. She remembered every Rider that served with her. It had to be some trick of the enemy, some illusion. The apparition licked her lips, then tried to communicate again.

A Rider galloped his horse onto the summit.

“It’s Hollin,” Breckett called to her.

The young man spotted her and rode right up to her, passing through the apparition. He did not see it. The apparition gazed at herself up and down, as if checking to see if she remained whole.

“Cap’n,” Hollin said, gasping for breath, “Varadgrim is remounted. He’s snuffing out our wards like candles.”

Lil frowned. Time had just grown even more precious. She swept away from the apparition.

“Breckett! Get everyone mounted and ready to ride on my word.”

He grunted in assent and did as she bade. Merigo was hurriedly staunching el Fex’s wounds, a green glow of mending flowing from her hands.

“Merigo!” Lil snapped. “You are exhausted and the night is not yet done.”

“But—”

“Bandage him if you must, and make it quick. Don’t use your gift. He is our prize, but he won’t be for long if you don’t get a move on.”

“Yes’m.”

As Lil moved among her people, encouraging the wounded and yelling at the others to hurry, she was peripherally aware of the apparition walking with her, absorbing the scene. She had stopped trying to speak.

When finally everyone was mounted, Lil placed her fists on her hips and said to them, “You will go down the west ridge. Varadgrim will not expect it, for it is steep. Traverse it with stealth and care, but quickly. A few shall go at a time, hey? Follow Breckett. He knows the way.”

“What of you, Cap?” Olin asked.

“I’m going to be leading a charge.” And that’s all she would tell them. “Pensworth? I need an illusion. The rest of you will go. Now.”

“Aye,” said Breckett, “this way then.” He led the Riders toward the west ridge of Kendroa Mor. Lil prayed none of their horses would stumble. She prayed Varadgrim truly did not expect them to use so hazardous a route. She prayed he would fall for her ruse.

“What d’ya want, Cap?” Pensworth asked, reining his horse over to her.

“The appearance of Green Riders fortifying the summit, as though we intend to make a stand here.”

Pensworth’s brow crinkled in thought, and she knew he was considering whether or not his gift was strong enough. He scrubbed at his chin, eyed the moon, and brightened perceptibly.

“Silhouettes,” he said. “Much less taxing than full-bodied.”

She clapped his leg. “Good man! Do you think you can make them, eh, noisy?”

Pensworth smiled craftily. “I’ll have ’em spouting every curse known at ol’ Varadgrim. It’ll make his face turn purple.”

Lil laughed until she remembered the apparition. She wondered if it would flit off to Varadgrim to warn him of her plans. But no, the apparition stood there, hands clasped behind her back, watching curiously.

Lil turned back to Pensworth. “Set those illusions now, and as soon as you’re done, you ride after the others, hey? No hesitation. You will be rear guard till I catch up.”

“Aye, Cap.”

Lil set off to unhitch her own horse, Brownie, who she had tied to a low growing, twisted pine. All her horses had been named Brownie. A long time ago she had lost track of how many Brownies she had gone through. She couldn’t afford to get attached to the beasts, so they all got the same name regardless of their color. She did have to admit that her current gelding was one of her more sensible, if uglier, Brownies.

Before she mounted, the apparition picked up a rock and dropped it at her feet. The apparition wanted her attention, and got it.

“I can’t hear a thing you are saying,” Lil said, “and I’ve no time for the likes of you.”

The apparition’s eyebrows narrowed and she looked none-too-pleased. Then she extended her hand.

Lil regarded the outstretched hand warily. Obviously the apparition wanted her to take it, but what would happen if she did? If this was one of Varadgrim’s ploys, might she be whisked away to Blackveil and imprisoned? No, she decided, for her brooch tingled, not in warning, but in encouragement.

Lil grunted, and reached for the hand. Their hands merged, and a shudder rippled down Lil’s spine, for she felt as though she were reaching across the ages. The apparition grew more solid.

I’m Karigan, the apparition said. Karigan G’ladheon.

Lil almost jerked her hand away in shock at hearing the imperial word.

You don’t know me?

“I do not,” Lil said. “You wear a brooch, demon girl. A brooch you should not be wearing. You dishonor us. Are you a slave of Varadgrim’s?”

No!

Cries and shouted insults erupted on the summit making Lil jump. She turned to find Pensworth’s illusion at work. Flat, parchment-thin figures of black leaped about the summit waving swords and nocking arrows to bows. There were even a few horse silhouettes. One particularly large female silhouette, endowed with Lil’s voice, screamed a phrase so foul about Varadgrim’s mother that the real Lil’s toes curled in her boots. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">