LAIRAMO had sent the oldest girl on the second trip because Tredianala was the most fearful of the remaining children, and Idalia had blessed the sound-cloaking properties of the tarnkappa with every step she took, as the child had cried the entire way, just as if she were not on her way to rescue and safety. The second in-and-out went much faster than the first, and she was able to deposit Tredianala within sight of Shalkan, and turn back to the cavern.
By now her tracks were a deep rut in the snow. The sight of them gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but there wasn’t much she could do about them. If the Shadowed Elves came outside, the proverbial goose was cooked anyway; they just had to hope they could get the captives out and make it to the Fortress of the Crowned Horns with them before the Enemy could come up with any more Deathwings or coldwarg.
Down into the dark again, and the caverns began to seem like an old friend. This time she took Vendalton. Now only Alkandoran, Merisashendiel, and Lairamo were left. The boy rode piggyback, his arms clutched about her throat. Her back was starting to hurt; this was different from carrying a pack all day in the Wildwood. A pack didn’t squirm around trying to get comfortable, and occasionally kick you in the stomach by accident.
She reached the cave opening and stepped outside. She looked around, wary of ambush.
“I will take the child, Idalia.”
Coethare materialized silently out of nowhere. With a grateful sigh, Idalia set Vendalton into the unicorn’s saddle and turned back into the cave.
Merisashendiel was next. The girl regarded her with big-eyed fear, suddenly unwilling to leave the others. Lairamo had to scold and bully her before she would take her place on Idalia’s shoulders.
“But what if they die?” Merisashendiel said. “What if the others come while you’re gone and take them?”
“Hush,” Idalia said brusquely. “Talking can’t change what will be. And if they haven’t come yet, they probably won’t come at all.” I hope. Did the Shadowed Elves check on their captives between feedings? There’d be no real reason to. And they’d just been fed. She tried to put from her mind what Alkandoran had said about how he’d been tracked and tormented on his one escape attempt. As she’d told the child, talking couldn’t change what would be.
Up through the twisting maze of tunnels that led to the village cavern. Along the rim. Back through the maze of tunnels that led to the surface and safety. She could no longer remember for how many hours she’d been doing this, how far she’d walked through this underground world.
The surface once again, and another waiting unicorn. Merisashendiel wanted to argue with her, to suggest that she should be the one to go back down. Idalia dumped her rudely into the unicorn’s saddle and turned away.
—«♦»—
“LAIRAMO should go first,” Alkandoran said when Idalia arrived.
“Certainly not,” Lairamo said calmly. “You will heed me in this, child. Go with Idalia.”
Lairamo looked up at Idalia. Their eyes met, and Idalia knew that they were both thinking the same thing. She couldn’t carry Alkandoran, but he was small and slender. She could fit him under the tarnkappa with her, if he put his arms around her waist and pressed very close to her, and they moved slowly.
She could not fit Lairamo under the tarnkappa with her at all.
I will find a way, Idalia vowed silently.
“But—” Alkandoran began.
“We’ll do it her way,” Idalia said. “Now this is going to be awkward and slow. I’ll need your help, and your full cooperation if we are to get out of here alive.”
Alkandoran swallowed hard, doing his best not to look as frightened as Idalia knew he felt.
“The sooner I have you out of here, the sooner I can come back for Lairamo,” Idalia said calmly.
Alkandoran nodded.
This trip to the surface was agonizingly slow, as the two of them shuffled along beneath Idalia’s cloak. Over and over Idalia blessed Lairamo’s practical no-nonsense calmness—after a sennight in the hands of the Shadowed Elves, the captives could all have been completely hysterical, too terrified to cooperate in their own rescue. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if that had been the case—the younger ones she could have bespelled into unconsciousness, perhaps (and hope that using the Wild Magic didn’t draw their captors to them immediately) but she would never have gotten Alkandoran to the surface without his intelligent cooperation.
Shalkan was waiting at the cave mouth.
“You were gone a long time, this time.”
“Slow going,” Idalia said, untangling the cloak from herself and Alkandoran. The youngster stepped away from her, drawing a shaky breath. “Just Lairamo, now.”
“We’ll be waiting for you. Come, lad,” Shalkan said.
Idalia took a moment to stretch, wrapping the cloak firmly around her, before stepping back into the cave once more. She’d already made up her mind what to do about getting Lairamo out. She suspected that Shalkan had guessed her plan.
Lairamo wasn’t going to like it. But it was the only way. And she only hoped she’d be around so that Jermayan could scold her for it later.
“NO,” Lairamo said, when Idalia told her.
“Yes,” Idalia said, just as firmly. “I’ve been over the route several times by now, and besides, I’ll be right behind you. I know how to move silently. Just follow the marks I’ve left, and they’ll lead you straight to the surface.”
“I will not buy my life at the expense of yours.”
“And what of the Prince?” Idalia was fighting dirty and she knew it, but she intended to win this argument, and swiftly. “He has seen his friends killed, and goes now to live among strangers at the Fortress of the Crowned Horns. Do I tell him I have left you behind to die? He needs you, and the Nine Cities need him. You will take the tarnkappa.”
Lairamo’s shoulders slumped as Idalia’s arguments hit home. “Best done quickly then,” the Elven nursemaid muttered. “But I do not forgive you this debt you place upon me, Idalia Wildmage.”
“I do not expect it.” I carry too many unpaid debts these days. She quickly flung the cloak over Lairamo’s shoulders and pulled the hood down over her face, showing her—by touch, since Lairamo was now invisible—how to hold the cloak to keep herself concealed. Then, with her hand on the shoulder of the now-invisible presence before her, Idalia and Lairamo made their way out of the cave.
They moved more slowly than Idalia would have liked, for Lairamo had to stop and look for the marks that Idalia had left, but they gradually made their way toward the surface, and freedom.
All along Idalia worried more for those waiting than for herself. They were pressing their luck every moment the party waited outside the cavern mouth—if this were her home, she would certainly post a watch over its entrance. But perhaps the Shadowed Elves did not think like Elves, or like Men. Or perhaps letting the captives escape was just another aspect of the trap.
All went smoothly—though with agonizing slowness—until they reached the path around the underground “village.” Idalia recognized it by the feeling of space, and by the faint glow of the firepit below—not enough for human eyes to see by, but enough to mark the place, since she had passed it so many times already this evening. She only hoped the creatures were all asleep, but thought that was too much to hope for—the meat she had seen roasting earlier argued that they were hunters, and probably hunted at night. She strained her ears for sounds from below.
Suddenly she heard what she had feared and dreaded—the stealthy approach of bare feet on rock. There was a faint click—as of a spear butt hitting rock—and a flurry of muttered whispers.
She felt invisible hands plucking at her frantically. Perhaps Lairamo had tried to shout a warning, not realizing that the tarnkappa would muffle all sounds.
“Go, Lairamo!” Idalia shouted. “Go on for Sandalon’s sake!” Praying the woman would heed her, she turned and fled back in the opposite direction, her eyes tightly shut, hoping desperately that she remembered the tunnels as well as she’d claimed.
A chorus of guttural cries greeted her flight—no more need for silence now that the prey was wise to the hunt—and Idalia heard the sound of bare feet slapping against stone as the creatures ran after her.
—«♦»—
LAIRAMO stood frozen in horror as five creatures out of nightmare ran after Idalia. None of them so much as paused to glance at her, so strong was the Wild-magery of Idalia’s cloak. A choking sensation rose in Lairamo’s throat as she realized that Idalia had given up her life to draw the hunters away, so that Lairamo could gain the surface alive.
For the young Prince, Lairamo thought, her heart stone-heavy. Grimly, she turned away to look for the marks that would lead her to the surface.
—«♦»—
“PACING won’t get them here any faster,” Kellen said to Jermayan.
The Elven knight shot him a dark look, and did not reply.
Everyone was standing to saddle, ready to ride the moment Idalia and Lairamo appeared. It was better than tempting fortune by lingering here a moment longer than they had to. Vestakia was standing watch now at the edge of the trees, adding her own magical senses to that of the unicorns, alert for trouble. If the creatures Idalia had named Shadowed Elves came near to the surface, Vestakia would know.