Andre Norton - The Warding of Witch World

There was one question which concerned them and it was Jasta’s mind-speech which stated it. *A gate—already used by the Dark—a force drawing ready to strike northward?*

“There is this,” Mouse answered slowly. “It has long been known that each land holds its own power which nourishes and supports those who are able to draw upon it, knowing or unknowing. The Cray Ones—the rasti—are of Escore. So it is true of the Sarn Riders, though such we have not seen trace of. They are not attuned to what lies here.” She put her hand flat down on the ground before her. “This will nourish, even as earth nourishes seed and root, only what is native to it. The farther one strays from one’s own place, the less power…”

“Lady Mouse.” It was Denever who had moved to face her straightly. “We of Karsten who were not of the Old Race had no earth-born power—that was why the Kolders forced the old duke to put your Old Ones to the horn. I served Duke Pagan because I was liege man to Lord Grisham and my oath was given him. I rode the north part of this country as my lord’s man and though there were places, yes, which we avoided because of the Old Ones’ honoring, yet never did any witchery arise. If the power of their land could not save the Old Ones at the time of the Horning—and they did have witchery—weak indeed must it be. It may well be true that the evil of Escore flits south now but will this land then turn against those who are of it?”

“No one, living or perhaps among those Gone Beyond,” Mouse answered him, “can unriddle the way of power. This much I have learned. My own”—her hand was on her jewel now—“takes longer for its raising, demands a greater price when I use it. And we are far from Estcarp.”

*Be not so sure, Witch Maid.* Theela’s thought struck deep. *You speak of powers within the earth—well, some be of the Light. Have not your own kind said Light draws light?*

“As Dark draws dark,” Keris said flatly. “However, this much I know from scouting in Escore. Gray Ones—and rasti—do not like the cold of heights, nor overmuch the shadowing of any forest. Both face us now.”

“Right,” Krispin cut in. “And do we have any choice?”

The Lady Eleeri shifted. She had been inspecting a coil of bow strings, testing each as it laid across her knee. “No. It is south. And do you forget Sebra’s find today?”

The Keplians took turns running loose, yet one always seemed to be well to the fore of the party when they set out each morning. Sometimes the sleek, beautiful animals disappeared for half a day or more, which never seemed to bother either the Lady Eleeri or her Lord.

*Yes.* The new Keplian mind-voice was less strident than that of the mare, but still well assured. *There is a canyon. The stream in it is low—there is forage in plenty and as one goes—it climbs.*

“With the dawn we send our feathered brothers.” Krispen was smoothing the head of his own falcon. “Their sight is keenest of all.”

So it was decided. Keris took his share of sentry duty and, when relieved, wrapped himself in his bedroll. They had camped in a half clearing, backed on one side by the rise of a low cliff. The heat of the fire he had just fed before he went to rest was reflected back by the stone, though it was chill and damp even a foot or so away.

It seemed as though he had been asleep for only a moment when—he was elsewhere!

He crouched belly down to the earth, seeking somehow to become a very part of it, not to be identified. His heart was pounding and his mouth was dry. No man lives without feeling the touch of fear, but what Keris suffered now was an all-encompassing terror. Yet something kept him from yielding what remained of his rational self to this assault.

Before him was a clear space in which stood a rough monolith, perhaps worn by ages of wind, so that its true nature could no longer be distinguished. But it gave off light and that deepened, spread. Light that was blue.

The fear which held him planted was as heavy as if a great beasts paw pinned him down. He could only watch helplessly what was happening before him.

At the foot of the time-battered statue stood a woman. And there was about her now the same air of command as he had many times seen—in his mother, in the witches. She was dressed in rough trail clothing; there was a pack at her feet as if she had shifted it to free herself for battle. However, though she wore steel, she had not drawn any blade; instead, much like the witchling Mouse, she held something in her hand which glowed.

She was not the only one who had gone to earth there. Keris could see, only partly behind her as if a body rested behind the discarded pack, the limbs of another, slighter form.

Strangest of all was her second companion. The creature towered well above the natural height of any man the Escorian had ever seen and it was completely covered with frizzled fur. Yet it stood on hind legs and wore about its middle a wide belt, glistening in the light, from which hung a number of artifacts.

“By the Power of the Maid, by the Power of the Woman, by the dire Power of the Hag…” the words beat into his brain and it seemed to him that that pressure which held him captive shifted a little. “By the Power of earth from which we come, to which we return in our allotted time, by the Power of the sky where rides Our Lady’s Own Token, by the air we breathe, by the fire which serves us—by this very land—show yourself for what you be, shadow of shadows, Dark out of Dark!”

The hairy creature had freed a rod from its belt and held it as a man might hold a familiar weapon.

“Show yourself!” Her words rang again as a battle cry.

That which had held Keris eased. He saw a curl of movement just beyond the edge of the blue radiance. And he wanted nothing more than to drop his head upon his arm, not to see— that!

What human could shape words to describe such a thing? Bile rose in his throat to choke him and he swallowed convulsively.

“Face now Her wrath—for you are unclean, not of the Light. Face Her… Sardox!”

The shadowy coils wavered. He could feel the menace in them still.

There shall come a reckoning, earth slut . No voice—only a thought. And now this much Sardox lays upon you and those beings you think to shield—-for certain laws hold both Dark and Light. You have challenged me, setting yourself up as a champion of that feeble Lady of yours. Therefore from this hour forth you shall travel as MY will takes you, that we shall meet again !

The woman laughed. “Brave words, Sardox. You have striven to break my ties with the Lady for three days—and even that you cannot do, for this earth answers not to you. Only my Lady can name me champion—and I am but one of the least of her servants. Still this night you have not taken me or those with me. Get you to your lord and answer to him for your defeat!”

“Keris! Keris!”

His body was whirling through a vast space—there was nothing to which he could cling; rather, he was a plaything of such winds as his world did not know.

“Keris!”

He could not even move his jaws, his tongue, his thought to answer.

“Keris!”

First it was like a stab of pain, and then it was an end to all fear, freeing him from the place of winds. He became aware he was panting, as worn as if he had raced heedlessly up some mountain slope. Then he opened his eyes and saw first that comforting beam of light and then Mouse’s small anxious face behind it. He was no longer wrapped in his bedroll but was lying with his head on the Lady Eleeri’s knee, and she was wiping his face with a dampened cloth which smelled wonderfully of herbs so that for a moment he could believe himself back in the Green Valley.