Mercedes Lackey - Changes

Wind rattled the shutters and the first gush of rain hit them as he dug out his voluminous raincape and wrapped it around himself. It had flaps that he could tie around his legs to keep them more-or-less dry, and he did so. The oiled canvas was stiff, but he wasn’t going to have to perform any acrobatic maneuvers in it, just get himself up into Dallen’s saddle.

Dallen laid his ears back when he saw Mags. ::I wish there were one of those for me.::

::Oh, hush. Do that thing ye did when ye shed alla thet dirt.::

::You weren’t supposed to notice that.:: One of the grooms pulled a door open. Rain poured in, and Dallen, still with his ears flat, cantered out into it.

::Aye, well, there’s a lotta thet goin’ ’round.::

It was like standing under a waterfall. Or—well, Mags had never actually done that, so it was what he imagined standing under a waterfall would be like. He was glad that the cape had a hood and he had tied said hood up, because otherwise the rain would have just poured in through the neckhole of this thing. Lightning lashed overhead, and the thunder was almost continuous. He couldn’t hear anything.

::Mebbe I should git ye a cane t’feel yer way.::

::Just remind me how much better this is than the oven we had this morning,:: Dallen replied, keeping up the pace.

::Oh... gods. This is so much better nor th’ oven we ’ad this morn,:: he replied, with deep feeling. Cold. He was actually cold. It was glorious. And his headache had completely vanished with the first chill blast of wind.

They passed the gate and the Gate Guards, who huddled in their own raincapes, with warm light showing at the open door. They waved at Mags, grinning. They must have felt the same—maybe more so. Guard uniforms were dark blue, not the best color in the heat, and they hadn’t been given leave to wear as little as they could.

Mags kept his head down to avoid being blinded by a sudden flash of lightning. ::Is there any odds we’ll git hit?:: he asked a little nervously.

::I’ll see that we don’t,:: Dallen replied.

::You’ll—:: Mags was at a loss for words for a moment. ::Is thet somethin’ all on ye kin do?::

::Aye. Why do you think, with all the terrible storms they ride through, Heralds never get struck by lightning?:: Dallen seemed amused; his ears were up again. ::However, I am not moving out of a walk. The streets are too uncertain.::

A walk seemed more than fast enough to Mags. The rain was coming down so fast that it wasn’t able to flow into the drainage ditches on either side of the road, and Dallen was splashing through an ankle-deep, swiftly moving stream where the road had been. ::This’s crazy. Ain’t never seen rain come down like this.::

::Once in a very great while. Rather like the blizzard we got the year you arrived.:: He felt Dallen’s amusement. ::Did you bring extreme weather with you?::

::Not thet I know of . . .:: He peered gingerly under the rim of his hood, but he couldn’t make out where they were. ::’Ow far are we, anyroad?::

::At this rate? About four times as long as it would have taken in good weather.::

::Bah.:: He wished he had a way to contact their host and apologize. Which was a little silly, since their host was, without a doubt, very much aware of how bad the storm was and would surely not be annoyed at Mags for being delayed.

::He’s more likely to thank you for coming at all,:: Dallen pointed out.

Still. He wondered if he could somehow tell Amily what was going on. After all, he was able to make those who could not Mindspeak hear him on the Kirball team—he should be able to make her hear him.

Well, if he could contact her at all. The members of his Kirball team were always nearby and were aware that he was going to do this. They practiced it long before they did it on the field, and Mags was very familiar with how their minds “felt.” He’d deliberately avoided Amily’s mind, shielding himself tightly around her, so he wouldn’t pick up any of her thoughts even by accident. This was not just because that was the ethical way to do things, but because he would have felt very uneasy invading her privacy like that, even if it was inadvertent. He hadn’t even warned her by Mindspeech when they’d been attacked—though he hadn’t needed to, since it was pretty obvious.

But if he could contact her at a distance at all, this was certainly the time to do so.

All right. Lessee if I kin . . .

He closed his eyes and let his shields down, just enough to send out a tentative thread of thought, looking for her—or rather, for something that “felt” like her. She couldn’t be too far away now... he and Dallen were forced to stay on the road, but thought could go in a straight line.

Lots of thoughts, most of them along the lines of Oh, my dear gods, we are all going to wash down the side of the Hill! None of them at all familiar. He quested a little farther.

Finally he thought he sensed someone familiar. ::Amily?:: he sent, tentatively.

::MAGS!::

It was a mind- scream , full of fear and panic. ::Mags! Mags! Help me! Hel—::

He felt the blow to her head that knocked her unconscious as if he were the one who had been hit.

Dallen felt it too, and without prompting lurched into a frantic, splashing gallop, heading for their host’s manor, utterly heedless of his own safety.

Mags pulled the hood off his head and peered through the rain, knowing that with two foreward-facing eyes his vision was better right now than Dallen’s was. His heart raced, and he was afire with anger and fear, but somehow cold with it too. It had to be Ice and Stone; who else would have taken her? He had been wrong, everyone had been wrong. They had been clever enough to realize that now was the time to try to snatch her, precisely because everyone would think they would retreat and regroup after their failure—

As Dallen charged through the rain, he thought he saw something ahead of them—

::There!:: he shouted. A carriage! A carriage pulled by two horses that were galloping at breakneck speed.

Dallen didn’t bother to reply, he just stretched his neck out and redoubled his efforts. And Mags locked his grip on the saddle horn, closed his eyes, and projected what had just happened to every Herald he could reach, straining until a bolt of pain lanced across his head and interrupted him. Now they knew.

Not that any of them would be able to get here . . .

He opened his eyes and saw that Dallen was gaining on the carriage. He couldn’t make out who it was that was lashing the horses so savagely, and he couldn’t sense anything human from it. Which could only mean those strange shields had locked down tight, and Ice and Stone were, for all intents and purposes, invisible.

Lightning hammered down and hit something just ahead and to the right of the carriage. The horses shied sideways, sending the carriage careening on two wheels before it dropped back down again. The figure on the driver’s box looked back; he must have spotted them, because he sawed at the reins, and the horses—now in a blind panic—plunged to the other side of the road and skidded around a corner Mag hadn’t even seen.

He and Dallen overshot; Dallen executed a muscle-pulling reverse and resumed the chase.

Another lightning bolt hammered down, and the horses shied. This time the carriage skidded back and forth wildly, and Dallen had to drop back a little.

Mags braced himself in the saddle. He could see in Dallen’s mind what he wanted to do: come alongside so that Mags could jump into the open carriage. They could do it if Dallen could get close enough. Then Dallen, without Mags’ weight on him, could surge ahead and shoulder the horses off the road while Mags protected Amily, who must be lying on the floor of the carriage.