They ran down toward the walls of Armethalieh. Suddenly Anganil turned and pivoted in his tracks, turning back the other way. The twenty unicorns gave way before him, and in moments he was followed by a double column of ten.
Turned again.
Circled.
Turned back toward the walls, the unicorns following in single file once more. And now their coats seemed to be glowing more brightly than they had been a moment before.
Pivot, stop, circle, turn… it was like watching a flock of birds in flight, and with each figure, the unicorns glowed brighter. Soon Anganil was glowing, too. and finally Kellen began to have an idea of what it was he was seeing.
They were a wand. Cilarnen and the unicorns were a wand. He was using them all to draw an enormous glyph on the land, instead of in the air. They were dancing it.
And when it was complete, the spell would be cast.
They reached the walls of the City, but they still didn't run in a straight line. Backward, forward, spinning and turning; if Anganil had not been an Elven-bred destrier trained for war, he would already have foundered.
How long could they keep that up?
How long did they have to keep that up?
The line of unicorns and one destrier disappeared around the curve of the wall.
"Wait. Where are they going?" Kellen asked.
"To ride three times around the City walls," Shalkan replied quietly.
"But… the docks are on the seaside of the City," Kellen said. He knew the docks well. They'd been his favorite place in the City. A unicorn could navigate them easily; he'd never yet seen the terrain a unicorn couldn't get over. But he couldn't imagine riding even an Elven destrier over the docks.
"Cilarnen will manage," Shalkan said. "He has to."
Even with them out of sight, Kellen could feel the spell build. It was an odd sensation. He knew what he was feeling had to be High Magick, since the spell was Cilarnen's, and Cilarnen was a High Mage. Normally at least since he'd become a Wildmage Kellen couldn't sense the workings of the High Magick any more than Cilarnen could sense the Wild Magic. The one time he'd been in contact with High Magick and had sensed it in the spell of Kindolhinadetil's Mirror it had just hurt.
This was different.
It was as if there were something important, and maybe interesting, and not all that bad, just out of reach.
If Cilarnen was right, a long time ago a very long time ago High Mages and Wildmages had worked closely together. Hard as it was to believe, Idalia said that their magic had all once come from the same place.
"Where are they?" Kellen muttered.
"It's a big place, your City. Give them time," Shalkan said.
Suddenly Cilarnen and his dancers burst out on the other side of the City, all of them turning side-by-side.
Kellen saw archers run to the walls. The High Mages who had been there during the battle with the White Riders had long since departed probably to discuss what it could possibly mean in great detail somewhere much safer.
And then Ancaladar plummeted down out of the sky.
The City Wards would keep him from descending to the walls themselves, but the City Guard didn't know that. The great black dragon made a pass over the City, as low as he could.
Kellen heard screaming. The archers fled from the walls.
"Won't do a lot for our position as their saviors, but it will keep Cilarnen from getting shot," Shalkan commented.
"Right now that's all I'm worried about," Kellen said fervently. "Let's just hope they don't figure out there's nothing Ancaladar can actually do."
"Hard to figure out anything when you're hiding under a bed," Shalkan replied.
* * * * *
SECOND circuit. Now trails of colored light followed the unicorns, hanging in the air behind them as they ran. Somehow Kellen had expected them to make the same moves this time as before, but they didn't. The passages were more elaborate, different, conducted at a faster pace. They moved as if they were sets of human dancers, tracing elaborate figures across the trampled ground.
And once more they vanished around the curve of the wall.
Ancaladar was still wheeling and swooping over the City, like an enormous and terrifying bird of prey. It would be someone very brave or very foolish who dared to go up on the walls to shoot at the unicorns.
Or a High Mage.
Why don't the High Mages attack? Kellen wondered. In their place, he would have given such an order long ago.
But without the Arch-Mage or Anigrel he suspected there was no one left in the City willing to take the risk of doing so. From everything Cilarnen had told him about what had happened in Armethalieh in recent moonturns, the place was even more hidebound than it had been when he left. Now nobody dared to do anything without the High Council's express permission. And the High Council didn't dare to do anything without the Arch-Mage and the Magewardens' approval. And Anigrel controlled the Magewardens.
So at the moment, nobody in Armethalieh probably dared to do anything at all.
Again Cilarnen and the unicorns appeared, this time enmeshed in a web of colored light. It trailed behind them, the streamers taking longer now to fade away, and the unicorns' bodies glowed so brightly that they cast shadows against the pale stone walls of Armethalieh, even in the winter sunlight. Anganil was covered in foam Kellen could see that much from where he stood, and he could imagine the rest; how the black stallion's lungs labored for air, his sides heaving with exertion as he fought for breath.
"This is the last circuit," Shalkan said.
"If Anganil should fall… " Kellen said.
"It will all have been for nothing," Shalkan said, "if they cannot complete the last circuit of the spell."
Now the unicorns turned and spun in the most elaborate set of figures yet, with Cilarnen and Anganil at their center. The black stallion ran in a straight line now, parallel to the walls, just far enough from them that the Unicorn Knights could weave back and forth around him.
"Someone's going up on the walls," Kellen said.
In the distance, he saw three figures ascend the walls, their upper bodies just visible over the top. Robed Mages. Over their gray robes, they wore the black tabards of Magewardens.
He heard Redhelwar call out to the archers to prepare to loose, but at this distance, the shot was an almost impossible one, and any arrow that fell short might hit one of the unicorns.
Suddenly one of the standing figures fell, an arrow through his shoulder. The others looked skyward, pointing.
Jermayan.
Ancaladar could not penetrate the City Wards, but an Elven arrow could. And Jermayan was an expert marksman.
The two remaining Magewardens hesitated. Jermayan fired again apparently a warning shot, as neither fell. Ancaladar swooped as low as he could. They fled, carrying their wounded comrade.