Marion Zimmer Bradley Super Pack. Marion Zimmer Bradley
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I sat up, dizzy-brained, far from alert. “Cynara! How—”
“Oh, never mind that—” her voice was impatient, “What can we do?” I didn’t know. I was still stupid with sleep, but I put a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “Don’t be afraid,” I told her, then, releasing her, bent and began to pull on my boots. I heard the swift pound of steps on the stairs, and Narayan shoved open the door, dragging a brown tunic over his head as he came. He stopped short at the door, staring at his sister. “Cynara, what are you doing here?”
She repeated her news, and he sighed. He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. “Well, never mind,” he told her, “The game was almost over, anyhow. Sooner or later they would have broken through the Illusion; Rhys is too old now for that. You were lucky to get away. We’ll have to storm the Keep tonight—unless they have too-good hunting.” He fumbled with the laces of his shirt. A dead weariness was in his grey eyes; they looked flat, almost glazed. He met my questioning stare and smiled ruefully. “The Dreamers stir,” he told me, “I am not yet free of—their need. So I must be careful.” Cynara shuddered and threw her arms around her brother’s neck, clutching him with a fiercely sheltering clasp. “Narayan, no—oh, no— don’t—”
But he was already deep in thought again. He freed her arms without impatience. “We’ll meet that when the time comes, little sister. So Karamy and Evarin ride hunting. Who else. Idris?” At her nod, his brows contracted. “All of them—but Gamine,” he mused, and turned to me. “Could you conceivably get through to Rhys? I don’t dare—not with that—that stirring.”
I understood, Narayan was still attuned to the terrible need of the sleeping Dreamers in the Keep. But I reminded him that only Gamine could control old Rhys. He looked at me with a strange curious question in his eyes, but made no comment. My own mind was working strong. I was unsure how I had gotten here in the house of the freed Dreamer. Just what had happened last night? I had thought Narayan would never trust me again; but now, when I needed it most, I seemed to be in his complete confidence. Damn Karamy anyhow, meddling with my memory! And she had the audacity to fly Evarin’s devil-birds after me—Adric, lord of the Crimson Tower! She should have a lesson she would not forget—and so should the presumptuous Gamine—and so should this walking zombie who was staring at me stupidly, as if I were his equal! I said with a slow savagery “I think I can manage Gamine!”
Narayan was watching me anxiously. Gods of the Rainbow, what preposterous things had I said and done last night? I said “We’ll take them at the Dreamer’s Keep,” and saw his face clear.
But what you do not know, Narayan, I added to myself with a secret satisfaction, is that you will join them there!
It never occurred to them to question, to wonder if Adric today were the Adric of last night. We went downstairs and snatched a quick breakfast; Cynara tore off her winged flame-color cloak and stuffed it wrathfully into the fireplace. Her coarse grey dress beneath it made her shy prettiness more striking than ever; Cynara was not Karamy, but she was a pretty thing; and Narayan could hardly fail to trust me when Cynara perched on the arm of my chair and ran her dainty fingers over the bruises on my face. “Your roughs nearly killed him!” she pouted at her brother.
“Oh, I’m not hurt,” I smiled at her, making my voice gentle for her ear alone. But I scowled darkly into my plate; pushed the food away and strode out into the camp. Narayan shouted quickly, jumping up, sending his chair crashing to the floor, and he ran after me so that we went down the steps together. “Wait,” he commanded in my ear, softly, “Don’t forget, to them you’re still a traitor!” He took my arm, and we walked through every row of tents together, Narayan’s expression almost belligerent. I saw the faces of the men as they came from their improvised shelter, saw suspicion gradually give way to tolerance and then casual acceptance. Finally Narayan called to Raif. “Stick to him, will you, Raif? He’s all right, but the men don’t know it yet.”
I glanced at Narayan. “Raif,” I said tentatively, “Can you find me twelve men who know the way to Rainbow City and aren’t afraid to come close to it?”
“I can,” Raif said, and went to do it. I had to hide a smile. Before long I would win back the place my foolishness had lost. The idiot whose body I had shared briefly had almost put it beyond recovery, but in a way he had helped, too. His weakness had won Narayan’s confidence. Well, one thing I knew, that futile idiot should not share the coming triumph. Nor should Narayan.
Narayan—fumbling in my pocket, I touched something smooth and hard. Evarin’s mirror. Narayan, looking over my shoulder as I dragged it out, asked curiously “What’s that?”
I pulled it out with a secret smile. “One of Evarin’s toys. Look at it, if you like.”
Narayan took it in his hand for a moment, without, however, untwisting the silk. “Go ahead,” I urged, “Unwrap it.” I might have sounded too eager. Abruptly Narayan handed it back. “Here. I don’t know anything about Evarin.”
I had to conceal my disappointment. With a feigned indifference I thrust it back into the pocket. It did not matter. One way or another, Narayan would lose. For Evarin and Karamy rode a-hunting today—and I knew what their game would be!
Falcons of Evarin
I pulled my cloak closer about me, prickling with excitement, as I knelt between Raif and Kerrel in the tree-platform. Just beneath me, Narayan clung to a lower branch. My ears picked up the ring of distant hooves on frozen ground, and I smiled; I knew every nuance of this hunt, and Evarin might find his deadly birds not so obedient to his call today. Not a scrap of me remembered another world where a dazed and bewildered man had flown at a living bird with his pocketknife.
Coldly I found myself considering possibilities. A snare there must be; but who: Narayan himself? No; he was my only protection until I got clear of this riffraff. Besides, if he ever unsheathed his power, unguarded like this, he could drain me as a spider sucks a trapped fly. No; it would have to be Raif. I had a grudge against the fat man, anyway. I pulled at his sleeve. “Wait here for me,” I said cunningly, and made as if to leave the platform. Raif walked smiling into the trap. “Here, Adric! Narayan gave orders you weren’t to run into any danger!”
Good, good! I didn’t even have to order the man to his death; he volunteered. “Well,” I protested, “We want a scout out, to carry word when they come.” As if we wouldn’t know!
“I’ll go,” Raif said laconically, and leaned past me, touching Narayan’s shoulder. He explained in a whisper—we were all whispering, although there was no reason for it—and Narayan nodded. “Good idea. Don’t show yourself.”
I held back laughter. As if that would matter!
The man swung down into the road. I heard his footsteps ring on the rock; heard them diminish, die in distance. Then—
A clamoring, bestial cry ripped the air; a cry that seemed to ring and echo up out of hell, a cry no human throat could compass—but I knew who had screamed. That settled the fat man. Narayan jerked around, his blonde face whiter. “Raif!” The word was a prayer.
We half-scrambled, half-leaped into the road. Side by side, we ran down the road together.
The screaming of a bird warned me. I looked up—dodged