Элейн Каннингем - The Floodgate

"Get back, Tzigone," Matteo panted out as he deflected one darting attack after another. "You're not trained for this."

"Who is?"

He darted her a quick, exasperated look. "Just go!"

"I called them," she responded grimly.

Matteo could not have argued even if he'd wanted to. As the iron weapons slowed the dark fairies' movements, their numbers became more apparent. Dhamari's spell of summoning had let more than a score of the fey monsters slip through the veil.

Suddenly the weird music stopped, and the Unseelie attackers drew back. They milled uncertainly about. Tzigone's heart leaped with sudden hope, but Matteo let out a heartfelt, barnyard epithet.

Her head whipped toward him. "What?"

Matteo backhanded a streak of blood off his forehead. "I've seen this formation," he said, "but not in battle."

Even as he spoke, the dark fairies began to circle. Their song erupted in a keening, triumphant frenzy. Like small, fey wolves, they closed in for the kill.

A brilliant light poured into the clearing, sending the dark fairies whisking off into sudden, eye-searing flight. Matteo shielded his eyes with one hand and glanced toward the source. His shoulders rose and fell in relief as he recognized Basel Indoulur's ship. The battle over, he dropped to both knees at Themo's side.

At first glance it appeared that the big jordain's wounds were not so bad-spiteful, superficial cuts such as he himself had sustained. The dull, haunted look in his friend's eyes suggested otherwise.

Crimson silk rustled as Basel dropped to one knee beside him. "How can I help?"

"The Unseelie folk can mark a mortal like a vampire," Matteo said. "Themo needs to be healed and cleansed, or he may never be more than you see him now. Have you a priest with you?"

The wizard shook his head. "We'll take him to the nearest temple." As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the edge of the clearing, when Tzigone stood with her chin tilted stubbornly high, nearly toe to toe with a very irate Iago. The jordain appeared to be railing at Tzigone, blaming her for what happened. For once the girl held her tongue. Matteo, knowing her quirky sense of honor, understood that she already felt the weight of her miscast spell.

Basel quickly placed himself between the angry jordain and his apprentice. "Board Avariel, Tzigone," he said calmly. "Get the others."

Iago spat. "I will not travel the same ship as that witch!"

"You're not invited to," Basel said coolly. "Take the mercenaries and ride to the nearest town. Or stay here and face those creatures again, as you prefer."

The jordain stalked off and held quick, angry speech with Dhamari's men. After a moment the mercenary captain came over to Basel, dragging Dhamari by the collar of his tunic. "Can you take one more? He can't ride in this condition, and every man here would rather kill him than tend him."

Basel gave a curt nod. Two of the men carried the wizard ungently up the long plank that led to the deck of the hovering ship.

Matteo hoisted Themo over one shoulder and carried him up the plank, unsure whether to stay or rejoin the other fighters. The skyship began to rise before he had time to disembark, settling the matter. He settled down beside Themo's cot. One of Basel's men brought him water and linen, and he busied himself cleaning and bandaging the jordain's many small wounds.

After a few minutes, Tzigone peered around the corner of the small cabin. She took in Themo, who by now was swathed nearly as thoroughly as a Mulhorandi mummy. Distress and guilt filled her expressive eyes.

"Don't take this on yourself," Matteo said, gesturing to Themo. "It is not your doing."

"That skinny jordain doesn't agree." She passed a hand over her face, leaving streaks of dirt and blood. "Neither do I."

Matteo beckoned her over. She sank down on the edge of the cot and submitted to his ministrations. When all her cuts had been tended, he sat down beside her and drew her into his arms.

Tzigone leaned her head against his shoulder. Words poured from her, tumbling over each other. Matteo listened without interruption as she told him about her meeting with Dhamari and her decision to travel into the countryside with him and learn what spells she could. "He said the summoning was accidental," she concluded.

"Do you believe him?"

She rose from the cot and began to pace. "I don't know. Did you find Kiva?"

"I found one of her companions."

She glanced at his bleak face. "Your turn."

Matteo told her about his encounters with Andris and the Crinti. He told her about the jordaini purification rite but did not pass along Iago's speculations about Kiva's motives. He mentioned that Ferris Grail owned the icehouse where Tzigone had been taken.

"Andris's treachery breaks my heart, but this sets me utterly adrift. Can I trust the jordaini order, the guardians of Halruaa?"

"Maybe they think that opposing you is part of keeping Halruaa safe."

Matteo considered this, especially in light of King Zalathorm's explanation of the mysterious power that protected the "heart of Halruaa." Perhaps this «heart» was the jordaini order. Perhaps in deviating from its strict rule, in exploring its secrets, he was doing harm where he meant only good.

He sent a helpless look at his friend. "I don't know what to do anymore."

She sat down beside him. "You know, I'm starting to see some sense in the jordain's creed. You're the only person I know who tells the truth. In a way, that's really stupid, but it's also why you're the only person I really trust. You have a healthy respect for magic but you've learned how to do without it. I've seen wizards who can't hit a chamber pot without casting a spell. Well, I haven't literally seen that, but you get my point. You really are a guardian of Halruaa. That's worth doing. I've traveled. Halruaa isn't perfect, but it's the best place I've been."

Matteo took her hand. "When did you become so wise?"

She grinned and batted her eyes in a parody of flirtation. "I've always been wise. It's just that I'm so gorgeous, men don't seem to notice my other gifts."

They shared a muted chuckle. "So, what's next?" she asked.

"If the queen is to be believed, war is next," Matteo said quietly.

Tzigone looked dubious. "From all I've heard, the queen is as crazy as a moon moth."

"Yet there may be some significance in the fact that it was Kiva who brought Beatrix to Halarahh."

"So you think the queen and Kiva are allies?"

"It seems unlikely. Zalathorm is a powerful diviner. He has foreseen every major threat to the land for over three-quarters of a century."

She thought this over. "Let's find out if the queen really does know something. Since she's got so many devices around, no one would think much of another one."

"I don't think much of that, myself," Matteo said. "Planting a scrying device means using a magical item, which is forbidden to the jordain."

"It's not forbidden for a wizard's apprentice," she argued.

"Having someone use magic on your behalf is the same thing," Matteo countered.

"On your behalf? Listen to the man! Whose idea was this, anyway?"

"It's foolhardy, illegal, and very likely suicidal," he said heatedly, counting off these points on his fingers. "So obviously the idea was yours."

For some reason, this amused Tzigone. "So where do you go next?"

He glanced at the sleeping jordain. "I'll see Themo to the temple for healing, then I should report to the palace."

"But?" she demanded, picking up the hesitation in his voice.

"Perhaps I should bring news of this attack to Procopio Septus."

"Old Snow Hawk? Why?"

"He has spent a considerable amount of time studying the Crinti. He will wish to advise the king."