Kellen hesitated—not because he thought the girl was Tainted—he was certain she wasn't—but because he wasn't sure he ought to tell anyone what they were doing here. But Shalkan settled the matter in his usual pragmatic fashion.
"I don't suppose I need to tell you what Demons are, do I?" the unicorn said.
Kellen felt the girl shudder, even through his armor.
"I thought not," Shalkan said. "And as you probably also know, Demons hate Elves more than they hate any of the other races of the Bright World, and so they've set a nasty spell to destroy the Elven lands, by making sure no rain falls there. Ever."
"Ever?" the girl said. "They—would make a desert of it? All of the Elven lands?"
"At least," Shalkan replied.
"Goddess bless—" she said, sounding shaken.
Kellen flicked a glance sideways at Jermayan, who was riding at Shalkan's flank. The Elven Knight's face was set in what was threatening to become a perpetual glower, but there was little Jermayan could do to stop Shalkan from saying whatever he wanted. Even among the Elves, Kellen was coming to realize, unicorns were a law unto themselves.
"So Kellen here, who's a Wildmage, like his sister Idalia, is taking the spell she made to the Barrier that Shadow Mountain has set up to keep the rain from falling. Once Kellen sets Idalia's spell against theirs, the Barrier will fall and the rains will come to Elven lands again. The only trouble is, nobody's quite sure where Shadow Mountain hid their spell. So that's what we're out here looking for. And hoping we find it before they find us, milady."
"But—if you're looking for Demon magic—I think I know where you want to go!" the girl exclaimed in surprise.
"I told you it was a trap," growled Jermayan, breaking his long silence.
Kellen clutched at the front of the saddle as Shalkan whirled, fleet as a cat, to block Valdien's path. Behind him, he felt the girl clutch at his belt.
"One—more—word—" the unicorn said through gritted teeth, "and I promise you, Child of Leaf and Star, that your sweet soprano voice will be the admiration of everyone you meet for the rest of your very long life."
Kellen stared at the unicorn's horn. It had taken on an odd pink flush he'd never seen before. He looked up at Jermayan. The Elf was staring at the horn as well, face pale and eyes wide.
There was a moment's tense silence, as the wind whistled among the rocks all around them, and at last Jermayan looked away, bowing his head in submission.
Still nobody said anything, and Shalkan didn't move.
"You can tell where we want to go? How?" Kellen said at last, to break the silence. He hated seeing Jermayan being put in such a humiliating position, even if it was almost entirely of Jermayan's making, and probably the politest thing to do, under the circumstances, was to pretend he hadn't noticed anything.
"You know—you can see—I have Demon blood," the girl said painfully.
Kellen waited for another outburst from Jermayan, but the Elven Knight had been thoroughly cowed by Shalkan. Shalkan stayed where he was, and Jermayan didn't even seem willing to move Valdien around the unicorn and continue on their way. It was clear he did not intend to move until Shalkan gave him permission.
"I will tell you the whole story soon, I promise, but I have been hiding from the Demons all my life, and the only way I was able to do it was because I can feel the presence of Demons as a kind of sickness that gets stronger the closer they come. As you can well believe, I've worked hard to hone this gift so that it will give me a sense of the direction from which the danger comes as well. I—if they ever find me"—her voice was shaking—"they will do worse to me than any human or Elf ever could."
Kellen heard the terror there, and he wanted to offer comfort, but couldn't imagine how. Surely Jermayan heard it too! How could he hear it and not be moved?
Because maybe he isn't thinking?
"For the past few days—and now, in the direction we're riding—I have been feeling that same unease," she continued. "Or—would sickness be the right word? That something is wrong, Tainted—no, not Tainted, merely, but polluted. Not a Demon, but something that tells me that Demonic magic is near, and growing stronger. If we ride toward that, surely you'll find what you're seeking?" she finished in a rush.
It was up to him, Kellen realized in dismay. Jermayan was too caught up in his own anger and fear to think clearly, and Shalkan couldn't—or wouldn't—make these kind of decisions. Like it or not, Kellen was the leader.
He'd always known that, but somehow it had never been quite so important before. For the first time, Kellen realized how much was riding on the decisions he had to make, and that only he could make them. It was up to him not only to decide to trust this chance-met stranger, but to trust her instincts and judgment as well. To guess, and guess rightly (he hoped), that she was not only a good person, but had the wisdom to use her gifts in the best way they could be used in this situation.
That was what made this a hard choice. It wasn't as simple as deciding whether or not she was good. She was good—both he and Shalkan knew that much, even if Jermayan was still unconvinced. What Kellen had to decide now was whether she was smart, and clever, and levelheaded enough to lead them close to trouble but not into it.
The Wild Magic led me to her. But had that been for her sake only, or for all of them? Was she a key to this, or only incidental?
"What's your name?" Kellen asked almost irrelevantly, still sitting on Shalkan's back in the middle of the trail as if they had all the time in the world to figure things out.
"Vestakia," she said, sounding surprised.
"Vestakia," he said. He was playing for time, he knew, hoping the Powers behind the Wild Magic would send him certainty, knowing all the while that the decision was going to be his alone, without any outside help. "Have you lived up here all your life?"
"All eighteen years of it," she said. She sounded puzzled now, probably wondering why they hadn't started down the trail again. "I've been alone since my aunt died, and that was four years ago."
"Can you… can you tell how far away the Demon-magic is, as well as what direction?" he asked, thinking hard.
"I can tell how far away one of Them is, right enough," she answered promptly. "But what you're looking for… I don't know. All I know is that it must be bad, if I can feel it at all. As bad as the Demons themselves."
His last hope was gone. If she was able to tell them how far away from the Barrier she was at any given time, that would make following her gift less of a danger. But since she couldn't, Vestakia might, even with the best of intentions, lead them right into it without warning.
But the Wild Magic sent you to her for a reason. She has the power to take you to the Barrier. Use it.
"Show us the way," Kellen said, making his decision.
As if his words had been a signal, Shalkan turned back along the trail.
FOR the rest of the day they followed Vestakia's halting directions as she led them deeper into the Lost Lands. Even the sparse wiry mountain grass was gone from the rocky hillsides now, and the only vegetation was a thick, dry, mosslike growth, or tough lichens. Vestakia said that no one, even outlaws, came this far into the mountains, and those that did never came back.
Kellen could tell that though Jermayan said nothing (his silent frustration and anger were nearly palpable), he ached to accuse her of leading them in circles, but Kellen didn't think she was. She'd said that the presence of Demons—or Demon-magic—made her ill, and she seemed to grow weaker and more uncomfortable as the day wore on and the sun sank westward. Soon they'd have to find a place to stop, even though there didn't seem to be any good ones.
The thought of stopping—of sleeping—anywhere in these mountains made Kellen profoundly uncomfortable, but what choice did they have? He had no idea how close they were to the Barrier, and Vestakia didn't seem to be sure either.
What he did know was that he'd been right to trust her to show them the way. There'd been no further signs to indicate their path—not very surprising, as there was nothing living to be warped out of its natural pattern. Kellen knew he could never have found this route without spells, and he was more and more unwilling to cast another spell for any reason.
"Vestakia?" he said when she hadn't spoken for a while.
There was no answer, and suddenly he realized that all her weight was leaning against his back, and that she was starting to slide sideways.
Shalkan stopped as Kellen wriggled free of the saddle, just in time to catch the girl as she slumped to the ground. He lowered her gently and turned back the hood of her cloak. She was gasping for air, and her eyes were half-closed.
"Vestakia? Vestakia, can you hear me?"
"I… oh, it hurts so much!" She rolled to her knees and retched weakly.
Kellen hated to badger her, but he had no choice. "Vestakia, is it near? Which way?"
"There." Still on her hands and knees, she pointed up between two boulders, at a nearly sheer half-dome of rock. "Near. It must be."
"We can do it," Shalkan said, looking the way she had pointed. "But not in the dark. And the animals can't do it at all. We'd have to leave them here."