"He has just learned of it," Vestakia said. "He is very… I am not sure what. She means to make it at a Place of Power somewhere near Armethalieh. He spies on Her. When She has made this Sacrifice She has spoken of, not even the Starry Hunt can keep He Who Is out of the world."
Kellen looked at the others Idalia, Jermayan, Cilarnen inquiringly. Among them they represented or had represented, in Jermayan's case all the forms of magic that existed in the world, and so represented a sort of informal Council-Within-a-Council in Redhelwar's army. Everyone knew that the battle that would be joined in only a few days, now at most would be fought more
with magic than with swords and lances, and High Mages and Wildmages had the best idea of the form a battle of magic would take.
"Well," Idalia said slowly, "I suppose it isn't hard to guess where She means to do it. There's one of the old Places of Power in the Delfier Valley a Shrine, like the one in the north where I summoned the Starry Hunt. The one in the Delfier Valley belongs to Men, but unfortunately for us, all the Shrines are completely neutral. Anyone can use them, and for any purpose, even a bad one. I'm not entirely certain where it is exactly, though I could find it if I had to; it's been forgotten for longer than the walls of the City have stood."
"Kindling is only a day or two away," Kellen said slowly. "That doesn't give us much time. But what's a 'Great Sacrifice'? Is it something you do? Or something you have?"
"It's I'm not sure," Cilarnen said. "But if I had to guess from what's in my old books and from the look on your face, I'd better it would be a person. Someone who symbolizes the Land Itself. And considering what we know about Them and how Their magic works, I'd say it would be a blood sacrifice."
"A King would be the only one who could symbolize the Land," Kellen said. "But Andoreniel is safe in the Elven Lands. And Sandalon is safe in the Fortress of the Crowned Horns. So is Ashaniel, for that matter. And there aren't any other kings."
Idalia frowned. "The Centaurs don't have Kings. Not any more. No Centaur She could sacrifice at the Delfier Shrine would symbolize the Land. The same holds for the Mountainfolk, because whoever She tried to sacrifice at the Delfier Shrine at Kindling, She'd have to find someone the Shrine itself would recognize as a King of Men isn't that right, Cilarnen?"
"Magic has rules," Cilarnen said firmly. "Well, the High Magick does. And what I read about the Great Sacrifice was in a book about the High Magick or its ancestor, anyway. So I'd say that this old form follows a lot of the same rules as what I do. The Sacrifice can't be just anybody. It has to be a specific somebody. At a specific time. The best and most powerful sacrifices the only kind my book talks about, actually went willingly, joining their personal power to the Land's power for the good of all, but I really don't think that's going to happen. And I think… She doesn't have Her sacrifice yet. Or She'd already have taken the shrine and just be waiting on top of it for the right time."
"She doesn't want Him to know," Vestakia said softly. Her voice was dreamlike, as if she were still asleep. "And… I don't know who the sacrifice is, but… I know that what She does will give Her a lot of power. And I think it frightens Him."
"It would frighten anyone," Kellen said quietly. "We'll stop it." He spoke with more certainty than he felt, but he could not bear the sight of her pinched, haunted, face.
Suddenly she gasped and doubled over.
"They're coming!" she said. "They're approaching from the south."
"To horse," Redhelwar said quietly. "We must reach Armethalieh before Them."
* * * * *
LESS than an hour later they crossed over into the Delfier Valley, and the army's speed increased.
Their army was still too far away too see at the far end of the valley, coming up the southern road, the one Cilarnen had taken toward Stonehearth many moonturns ago but everyone in the army, whether they had magic or not, now could sense Their approach. It was as if the air were filled with a constant irritating whine, and there were a shadow over the face of the sun. Half the outriders had dropped back simply to keep the horse herds from bolting, and even the normally stolid oxen, the last creatures to be affected by anything, were on the verge of panic.
But Idalia and the other Wildmage Healers had been preparing for this all the way here. At the first stop of the day, they moved through the army and the herds, distributing doses of the same bright green cordial Kellen had been dosed with by Shalkan when he began his climb to the Black Cairn. It shut down the magical senses even in the non-magical and made the presence of the Demons easier to bear.
"How much is there?" Kellen asked.
Idalia had brought a large bucket of faintly green-tinged water to where he and his troop were resting. After all of the Elves had drunk a cup Kellen, of course, did not the destriers were each encouraged to drink a bowlful. As Kellen recalled from Shalkan's explanation, it would taste good to them, and calm their nerves.
"Enough to dose the worst cases at full strength for three days, and to take the edge off the entire army for the same time. We've put it in the drinking water, by Redhelwar's command. Don't worry. There are a few barrels of pure water left for the Wildmages. Or you can melt snow."
"If I can find any," Kellen said, looking around. After the landscape he'd been riding through most of the winter, this looked like high summer. "Did you give some to Vestakia?"
"She refused."
"Make her take it. Or I'll come and pour it down her throat myself."
Idalia opened her mouth to protest. Kellen cut her off.
"We need what she can still tell us. And she needs rest. We already know that They're there, and where They're going. If They attack us in the next few hours, I'm sure we'll notice without any extra warning."
Idalia smiled. "I'll tell her you said so."
"Just tell her she has to take it."
"I will." Idalia picked up the empty bucket and moved on.
* * * * *
AS they rode deeper into the Delfier Valley, it became apparent to the Allies that the Demons did not mean to engage. Everyone knew how fast They could move especially the Endarkened themselves, covering miles in seconds. Yet They held back, allowing the Allies to push on down the Western Road toward Armethalieh without opposition.
"What are They planning?" Kellen demanded.
He was riding beside Redhelwar, at the front of the Allied Army. Soon they would have to stop to make camp. It was possible the attack would come then. Though the Demons marched and flew in the day, many of those who marched beneath Their banner were creatures of the night.
And tomorrow if they survived the nightthe army would reach Armethalieh.
"Perhaps to have all of Their enemies in one place before They destroy them," Redhelwar answered, falling easily into the informality of War Manners.
"But They don't want to destroy Armethalieh. They want to devour it. It's us They want to destroy," Kellen said.
"Does the Wild Magic not counsel you?" Redhelwar asked. There was an undertone of worry in his voice.
"It doesn't suggest I'm doing anything I shouldn't be doing or that you aren't," Kellen said. "So I suppose we're both doing what we ought to be right now by going straight ahead. If Ancaladar can make a flight over the City tonight, we'll have fresher news. And Cilarnen intends to scry, to see what's going on with the Council. They have to know that there are two armies out here. They'll be meeting in an Emergency Session tonight, more than likely. He'll be able to find out what they're talking about."
"And perhaps tomorrow he can speak to them in person, and bring them to their senses," Redhelwar said.
"I hope so," Kellen said grimly.
* * * * *
THEY set up camp in expectation of being attacked at any moment, with a third of the camp on watch at all times. It was all they could do; they dared not march through the night. The Demon army was more than human. They were only flesh and bone. Even if Coldfire would allow them to see in the night, they dared not arrive at the sight of the battle unfed and exhausted.
Kellen was up at the Unicorn Camp. Not only did being there allow him to spend time with Shalkan, he would be nearby when Cilarnen finished doing… whatever it was that Cilarnen did. He wasn't really in the mood to sleep, anyway. And his troop had the second watch, the hardest of the night. He'd sleep for a few hours after that, he promised himself.
Every now and again he glanced over at Cilarnen's wagon. It seemed to glow faintly, though there was no actual light showing.
"You'll wear yourself out with all that staring," Shalkan told him.
The closeness of the Demons affected everyone. It was as if Their mere presence was a beacon, radiating despair. But the unicorns, of course, were the hardest hit by Their nearness. Shalkan's fur twitched constantly, as if invisible flies were stinging him, and his tufted tail was in constant motion, though he made no reference to the cause.
"I know," Kellen said, sighing. "I just wonder what he's doing."
"If you'd stayed in the City, you'd know, of course," the unicorn reminded him.
Kellen shuddered faintly, and not from the cold. Shalkan snickered, but his ears twitched, raising and flattening, as if he were trying to find relief from an itch he couldn't reach.