Mercedes Lackey - Changes

The driver looked back again, saw them still on his tail, and viciously heeled the horses over again. The carriage slewed from side to side, and again, Dallen had to drop back.

But the horses weren’t going to be able to keep this up for very long. They didn’t have the stamina that Dallen did. Not even the fact that they were going downhill was going to help.

Every hair on his body suddenly rose up, and he smelled something sharp and—

Dallen swerved violently sideways, and another bolt of lightning struck where they had been. The heat of it scorched his cheek, it was so close, and it seemed to suck all the breath out of his body and blind him, all at once—and the thunder nearly flattened him into the saddle.

For a moment, he fought for air, mind utterly blank.

When his mind came back, the carriage was lengths ahead of them, and Dallen was standing like a horse made of stone, and both of them were steaming. His whole body tingled painfully, his skin felt burned, and for a moment he had trouble thinking of what they were supposed to be doing.

Suddenly Dallen shook himself all over, and lurched into a gallop again. Mags tried to make his mind work, but it was moving slowly, thoughts blundering around like blind beetles. Dallen closed the distance between themselves and the carriage, and Mags finally felt his mind staggering back to normal. The driver wasn’t looking back. Did he think they’d been struck?

Had he somehow been the one that caused the strike?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the carriage and making the jump.

Dallen closed the gap. His nose was practically at the rear wheel. Now his head was alongside the rear wheel. Mags tensed and raised up in the stirrups. This would take incredible timing. Rain torrented down, making it even harder. He would have to land right in the carriage, because in this rain, the chance of catching the side and saving himself was—not good.

A little more... just a little . . .

Neither he nor Dallen saw the object that hurtled out of the carriage into them—but they both felt it. It was big and solid enough to slam into Dallen’s neck and flank with terrible force, and neither of them were ready for it.

Dallen lost his footing; started to go over, fought for it, hurtling sideways on the sluice that was the street, as Mags clung desperately to the saddle, breath completely rammed out of him.

They both knew at the same moment when Dallen was not going to be able to keep his feet.

Mags flung up his arms to shield his head; Dallen fell with as much control as he could muster. The pavement slammed into both of them, and everything went black.

“Mags! Mags!”

Mags hurtled up out of unconsciousness like a panicked starling shooting into the sky. His eyes flew open; his body registered rain, his mind recognized Heralds, and his memory shouted Amily! He tried to lurch to his feet.

Someone held him down.

He flailed at them. “Lemme go! Lemme go! They got Amily! They’re gittin’ away! Lemme go!”

A stranger in Herald’s Whites grabbed his head in both hands and forced him to stop struggling. “Mags. It’s too late. They’re long gone. We got here to find you and Dallen lying in the street and no sign of them.”

He stared at the man without comprehension for a long, long moment. “No—” he croaked. “No—they cain’t—”

“Yes,” said the man, with compassion, but without any attempt to soften the blow. “They can, and they did.”

A million things raced through his mind. He wanted to burst into tears. He wanted to shove this fellow off him and go running down the street. He wanted to scream, or pull lightning down out of the sky himself, or—

He did none of these things, for none of them would get Amily back. Instead, he looked up into the stranger’s face. “What—what do I do?” he asked. “What do we do?”

The stranger gave him a long, searching look, then nodded. “They won’t kill her; they won’t even hurt her for now,” he said. “If they’d wanted to do that, they wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. So for now, we go back where we have resources, and you tell us everything you can. Think you can stand?” He took his hand off Mags and his knee off Mags’ chest.

Mags lurched to his feet, stumbled in the rain, and looked around. To his great relief, he saw Dallen also on his feet, even if the Companion’s head was hanging so low his nose touched the street.

::Dallen?::

::I’m all right. Bruised. Nothing broken. And furious.:: The Companion raised his head and looked into Mags’ face. Pure rage blazed at Mags from the blue eyes.

“Anything broken?” asked the stranger.

“Dallen says no—”

“I meant you,” the stranger interrupted.

Mags took a deep breath—or tried to. Every muscle in his chest suddenly constricted painfully. But there weren’t any stabbing sensations, and he answered, “Don’ thin’ so.”

“Blessed Cernos, I have no idea how that happened. Do you see that?” The stranger pointed to a rectangular shape lying off to the side of the road. Mags guessed it was about at long as he was tall. “That was a seat in the carriage. At a guess there was one of them driving and one on the floor, making sure the girl didn’t bounce out or come to and jump out. He ripped out that seat and flung it at you when you came alongside. It probably weighs about as much as you do.”

“Oh.” Well, that explained what had hurtled into them.

“You can thank all that game practice for keeping you both from breaking your necks.” The stranger, who had an oddly familiar look to him, raised his head, rain streaming over him as he closed his eyes for a moment. “There. Everyone knows you’re all intact. Friends are bringing Nikolas up from Haven.”

He whistled shrilly, and a moment later, an extremely tall Companion came trotting in through the rain curtains.

“Any sign?” the stranger asked his Companion.

The Companion blew out a disgusted snort and shook his head vigorously.

“Well, it was worth trying. If anything could track them in this muck, it would be you.” The stranger sighed and turned back to Mags. “All right, let’s get you into the saddle. I’d rather you didn’t walk too far until a Healer has a chance to look at you.”

Obediently, Mags turned toward Dallen, but the stranger’s Companion shouldered in between them. The blue eyes bored into his. ::Not Dallen, he’s in no better shape than you are,:: said a crisp, clear Mindvoice with the sound of bells in it. ::My saddle.::

“Uh... oh... aight,” he replied, blinking, and with every muscle in his body screaming in protest, he reached up to the saddle horn.

He managed that, but he couldn’t get his foot high enough to go into the stirrup—

Before he could think, he felt the stranger boost him, so he did manage to scramble into place. The strange Herald started trudging up the street, plowing with determination through the downpour. His Companion followed, and Dallen moved painfully alongside.

::Who is that?:: he asked Dallen, half of his mind trying to figure out why the stranger looked so familiar, the other half trying to think of some way, any way, he could find Amily and get her back.

::Sedric,:: Dallen replied, shortly.

That name was... familiar.

“You’re lucky I was close, and I’m a strong Mindspeaker,” said Sedric. “I have literally just gotten back from my first circuit. I was waiting out the rain at Master Soren’s when I heard you shouting.”

“You know Master Soren?” Mags asked, still thinking furiously, but fruitlessly.