“Yes,” said Malthus. “Always.” He smiled at Aracus. “Come. Since sleep evades you, let us review the ways in which the Soumanië’s power may be invoked and used, for it is my hope that such knowledge may yet be needful.”

With a sigh, Aracus Altorus began to repeat his mentor’s teaching.

FIFTEEN

FIFTEEN

THE GULNAGEL WERE IN HIGH spirits, and Speros’ lifted accordingly. He was grateful for the assignment, grateful for the show of trust on General Tanaros’ part. And truth be told, he was grateful to be away from Darkhaven and the presence of the Lady Cerelinde. It made him feel at once awestruck and insignificant, vile and ashamed, and between the General’s fierce glare and Ushahin Dreamspinner’s insinuations, it was altogether too unnerving.

This, now; this was more the thing. The camaraderie of the Fjel and a purpose to achieve. A warrior’s purpose, serving Darkhaven’s needs. He’d had only a small glimpse of the tunnels underlying Urulat when they’d traveled through the Ways. The Vesdarlig Passage was bigger than he could have imagined; wide enough for two Fjel to run abreast, tall enough for Speros to ride his tall grey horse.

Ghost, he had named her, because of her coloring. She moved like one, smooth and gliding. After his first mount had been lost in the Ways, Speros had thought he might never be given another such to ride, but the General had let him keep Ghost for his own. She bore him willingly, though Speros was uncertain whether she liked him. She had a trick of gazing at him out of the corner of one limpid eye as if wondering how he would taste, and her teeth were unnaturally sharp.

That was all right. He didn’t know whether he liked her. He was, however, quite certain that he loved her.

They moved swiftly, the Gulnagel at their steady lope, with one pair scouting ahead and Ghost keeping pace with the others at a swift canter. Streaking torchlight painted the walls with a shifting fresco of light and shadow, and it felt strange and exciting, a little like the unforgettable ride through the Midlands when Ushahin Dreamspinner had led them along the paths between waking and dreaming.

How odd it was to think that the plains of Curonan were above them. In another day, Haomane’s Allies might be riding over their heads and never even know it.

If there had been more time, Speros mused, perhaps it would have been better to use the tunnels rather than block them. How long would it take to move the army in a narrow column? He calculated in his head, trying to estimate how large an opening it would require to allow them egress, how far away it would have to be to enable them to assemble unseen, yet close the distance and fall upon the enemy before they could rally.